^ 


7) 


V 


THE 


STUDY   OF   SOCIOLOGY 


BY 

HERBERT   SPENCER 

AUTHOR    OF 
A    SYSTEM    OF    PHILOSOPHY,    DESCRIPTIVE    SOCIOLOGY,    ETC. 


NEW    YORK 

D.    APPLETON    AND    COMPANY 

1899 


COPTBIGHT,   1873, 

By  D.   APPLETON  AND  COJIPANT. 


SRLF 
Ueurgtfe  oabagri        URL 


o^/l'^'iZ^IOZ 


PREFACE  TO  THE  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


It  is  desirable  that  the  present  volume,  the  origin  of 
which  is  explained  in  the  author's  preface,  should  be  accom- 
panied by  a  brief  statement  in  relation  to  Mr.  Spencer's 
other  works  upon  sociological  science.  The  "  Principles  of 
Sociology "  was  projected  by  Mr.  Spencer  as  a  part  of  his 
philosophical  system,  the  publication  of  which  was  com- 
menced in  1860.  Five  volumes  of  that  system  have  ap- 
peared, viz. :  "  First  Principles,"  in  one  volume ;  the 
"  Principles  of  Biology,"  in  two  volumes ;  and  the  "  Prin- 
ciples of  Psychology,"  in  two  volumes.  "Fir?t  Principles" 
develops  the  general  method  of  the  philosophy  to  be  carried 
out  in  the  subsequent  works.  In  the  two  succeeding  parts 
that  method  is  applied  to  the  interpretation  of  the  phenom- 
ena of  Life  and  Mind,  the  whole  course  of  exposition  being 
preparatory  to  the  "  Principles  of  Sociology,"  in  three  vol- 
umes, which  are  next  in  order.  Upon  this  work  Mr.  Spen- 
cer has  now  entered,  and  it  will  be  published  in  quarterly 
parts,  by  subscription,  in  the  same  form  that  was  adopted 
with  the  previous  divisions  of  the  work. 

Several  years  since  Mr.  Spencer  foresaw  a  difficulty  that 
would  arise  in  working  out  the  principles  of  social  science 
from  a  lack  of  the  data  or  facts  necessary  as  a  basis  of  rea- 
soning upon  the  subject ;  and  he  saw  that,  before  the  philos- 
ophy could  be  elaborated,  these  facts  must  be  systematically 
and  exhaustively  collected.  How  early  and  how  clearly  Mr. 
Spencer  perceived  the  nature,  diversity,  and  extent  of  the 


Ul 


-> 


iv  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

facts  upon  which  a  true  social  science  must  rest  is  well 
shown  in  the  following  passage  from  a  review  article  pub- 
lished in  1859,^  before  he  had  commenced  his  great  under- 
taking : 

"  That  which  constitutes  history,  properly  so  called,  is  in  great  part 
omitted  from  works  on  this  subject.  Only  of  late  years  have  historians 
commenced  giving  us,  in  any  considerable  quantity,  the  truly  valuable 
information.  As  in  past  ages  the  king  was  every  thing  and  the  people 
nothing,  so,  in  past  histories,  the  doings  of  the  king  fill  the  entire  pict- 
ure, to  which  the  national  life  forms  but  an  obscure  background. 
While  only  now,  when  the  welfare  of  nations  rather  than  of  rulers  is 
becoming  the  dominant  idea,  are  historians  beginning  to  occupy  them- 
selves with  the  phenomena  of  social  progress.  The  thing  it  really  con- 
cerns us  to  know  is,  the  natural  history  of  society.  We  want  all  facts 
which  help  us  to  understand  how  a  nation  has  grown  and  organized 
itself.  Among  these,  let  us  of  course  have  an  account  of  its  govern- 
"ment ;  with  as  little  as  may  be  of  gossip  about  the  men  who  officered 
it,  and  as  much  as  possible  about  the  structure,  principles,  metliods, 
prejudices,  corruptions,  etc.,  which  it  exhibited ;  and  let  this  account 
include  not  only  the  nature  and  actions  of  the  central  government,  but 
also  those  of  local  governments,  down  to  their  minutest  ramifications. 
Let  us  of  course  also  have  a  parallel  description  of  the  ecclesiastical 
government — its  organization,  its  conduct,  its  power,  its  relations  to  the 
state ;  and,  accompanying  this,  the  ceremonial,  creed,  and  religious  ideas 
— not  only  those  nominally  believed,  but  those  really  believed  and  acted 
upon.  Let  us  at  the  same  time  be  informed  of  the  control  exercised  by 
class  over  class,  as  displayed  in  social  observances — in  titles,  saluta- 
tions, and  forms  of  address.  Let  us  know,  too.  what  were  all  the  other 
customs  which  regulated  the  popular  life  out-of-doors  and  in-doors> 
including  those  concerning  the  relations  of  the  sexes,  and  the  relations 
of  parents  to  children.  The  superstitions,  also,  from  the  more  impor- 
tant myths  down  to  the  charms  in  common  use,  should  be  indicated. 
Next  should  come  a  delineation  of  the  industrial  system:  showing  to 
what  extent  the  division  of  labor  was  carried:  Imw  trades  were  regu- 
lated, whetiicr  In'  caste,  guilds,  or  otherwise;  whiit  was  the  conneclion 
between  eniploy(!rs  and  euii)Ioyed  :  what  were  the  agencies  for  dis- 
tributing connnodities  ;  what  were  the  means  of  communication  ;  wliat 
was  the  circulating  medium.  Accompanying  all  which  .sliould  be  given 
an  account  of  the  industrial  ;nls  ticlinicMlIy  considered :  stating  the 


»  "  What  Knmvlcdgo  is  of  nio.st  \S(.iih  ?"— (  Wedininster  lieview). 


PREFACE  TO   THE   AMERICAN   EDITIOX.  y 

processes  in  use,  and  the  quality  of  the  products.  Further,  the  intel- 
lectual condition  of  the  nation  in  its  various  grades  should  be  de- 
picted ;  not  only  with  respect  to  the  kind  and  amount  of  education, 
but  with  respect  to  the  progress  made  in  science,  and  the  prevailing 
manner  of  thinking.  The  degree  of  jpsthetic  culture,  as  displayed  in 
architecture,  sculpture,  painting,  dress,  music,  poetry,  and  fiction, 
should  be  described.  Nor  should  there  be  omitted  a  sketch  of  the 
daily  lives  of  the  people — their  food,  their  homes,  and  their  amuse- 
ments. And,  lastly,  to  connect  the  whole,  should  be  exhibited  the 
morals,  theoretical  and  practical,  of  all  classes,  as  indicated  in  their 
laws,  habits,  proverbs,  deeds.  These  facts,  given  with  as  much  brevity 
as  consists  with  clearness  and  accuracy,  should  be  so  grouped  and  ar- 
ranged that  they  may  be  comprehended  in  their  eiisemhle,  and  con- 
templated as  mutually-dependent  parts  of  one  great  whole.  The  aim 
should  be  so  to  present  them  that  men  may  readily  trace  the  consensus 
subsisting  among  them,  with  the  view  of  learning  what  social  phenom- 
ena coexist  with  what  others.  And  then  the  corresponding  delinea- 
tions of  succeeding  ages  should  be  so  managed  as  to  show  how  each  be- 
lief, institution,  custom,  a^nd  arrangement,  was  modified,  and  how  the 
co7isensus  of  preceding  structures  and  functions  was  developed  into 
the  consensus  of  succeeding  ones.  Such  alone  is  the  kind  of  informa- 
tion, respecting  past  times,  which  can  be  of  service  to  the  citizen  for 
the  regulation  of  his  conduct.  The  only  history  that  is  of  practical 
value  is,  what  may  be  called  Descriptive  Sociology,  And  the  highest  t 
office  which  the  historian  can  discharge  is  that  of  so  narrating  the 
lives  of  nations  as  to  furnish  materials  for  a  Comparative  Sociology, 
and  for  the  subsequent  determination  of  the  ultimate  laws  to  which 
social  phenomena  conform." 

Such  were  the  character  and  scope  of  the  facts  which  re- 
quired to  be  collected  concerning  all  forms  and  grades  of 
human  societies  before  any  thing  like  a  valid  social  science 
could  be  constructed.  A  descriptive  Sociology,  furnishing 
comprehensive  data,  must  precede  the  establishment  of  prin- 
ciples, and  so  Mr,  Spencer  began  the  collection  of  his  mate- 
rials five  years  ago.  He  first  devised  a  system  of  tables 
suited  to  present  all  orders  of  social  facts  displayed  by  any 
community — facts  of  struc_tu_re,  function,  and  development,  \ 
in  such  a  manner  that  they  can  be  compared  with  each  other 
at  a  glance — each  table  being  a  kind  of  chart  of  tlie  social 


yi  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

condition  of  the  community  to  which  it  is  devoted.  His  ob- 
ject was  at  first  solely  to  facilitate  his  own  work,  but  it  soon 
appeared  that  the  results  would  be  of  great  general  impor- 
tance, and  Mr.  Spencer  decided  to  execute  the  undertaking 
with  a  yiew  to  publication.  The  communities  of  mankind 
were  divided  into  three  great  groups  :  1.  Uncivilized  Socie- 
ties ;  2.  Civilized  Societies,  Extinct  or  Decayed ;  3.  Civilized 
Societies,  Recent  or  still  Flourishing.  Having  arranged  his 
plan,  Mr.  Spencer  engaged  three  educated  gentlemen  to  de- 
vote themselves  to  the  systematic  collection  of  the  various 
orders  of  facts  pertaining  to  these  three  groups  of  societies. 
In  each  case,  the  tables  are  filled  in  with  the  facts  under 
their  appropriate  heads,  while  extracts  are  separately  given 
from  the  authorities  consulted.  The  description  of  the  Un- 
civilized Societies,  by  Prof.  David  Duncan,  embracing  sev- 
enty tables,  is  substantially  completed.  Of  the  second  divi- 
sion, in  charge  of  Dr.  Richard  Schejipig,  the  first  installment, 
including  the  four  ancient  American  civilizations,  is  nearly 
finished.  The  third  division,  dealing  with  civilized  socie- 
ties, under  charge  of  Mr.  James  Collier,  of  St.  Andrew's  and 
Edinburgh  Universities,  is  well  advanced,  and  the  first  part, 
treating  of  the  English  civilization,  or  the  Sociological  His- 
tory of  England,  is  now  published.  It  covers  seven  con- 
secutive tables,  and  the  verifying  extracts  occupy  seventy 
pages  folio. 

This  series  of  works,  which  will  be  published  as  they  are 
completed,  will  form  a  regular  Cyclop;i.>dia  of  Descriptive 
Sociology,  and,  as  the  facts  are  given  independently  of  the- 
ory, they  will  have  value  for  all  students  of  social  phenom- 
ena. Of  the  execution  and  influence  of  this  work,  the  Brit- 
isli  Quarterly  Review  well  observes  :  "  No  words  arc  needed 
to  indicate  the  immense  labor  here  bestowed,  or  the  great 
sociological  benefit  which  such  a  mass  of  tabulated  matter 
done  under  such  competent  direction  will  confer,  ^rhe 
work  will  coustitutc  an  epoch  iu  the  science  of  comi)arative 
sociology." 


PREFACE  TO  THE   AMERICAN  EDITION.  yii 

It  will  be  understood  that  these  works  do  not  form  a 
part  of  Mr.  Spencer's  Philosophical  System,  but  a  separate 
preparation  for  the  third  division  of  it.  Mr.  Spencer  will 
use  his  extensive  materials  in  establishing  the  inductions  of 
the  science  which  will  be  presented  in  the  successive  parts 
of  the  "  Principles  of  Sociology." 

E.  L.  Y. 


Qeorgae  Sabagn 


PREFACE. 


This  little  work  has  been  written  at  the  instigation  of 
my  American  friend,  Professor  Youmans.  When,  some 
two  years  ago,  he  was  in  England  making  arrangements 
for  that  International  Scientific  Series  which  he  origi- 
nated and  succeeded  in  organizing,  he  urged  me  to 
contribute  to  it  a  volume  on  the  Study  of  Sociology. 
Feeling  that  the  general  undertaking  in  which  I  am 
engaged,  is  extensive  enough  to  demand  all  my  energies, 
I  continued  for  a  long  time  to  resist ;  and  I  finally  yielded 
only  to  the  modified  proposal  that  I  should  furnish  the 
ideas  and  materials,  and  leave  the  embodiment  of  them  to 
some  fit  collahorateur.  As  might  have  been  expected,  it 
was  difficult  to  find  one  in  all  respects  suitable ;  and, 
eventually,  I  undertook  the  task  myself. 

After  thus  committing  myself,  it  occurred  to  me  as  de- 
sirable that,  instead  of  writing  the  volume  simply  for  the 
International  Scientific  Series^  I  should  prepare  it  for  pre- 
vious issue  in  a  serial  form,  both  here  and  in  the  United 
States.  In  pursuance  of  this  idea,  arrangements  were 
made  with  the  Contemporarij  Revieiu  to  publish  the  suc- 
cessive chapters  ;  and  in  America  they  have  been  simul- 
taneously published  in  the  Poptilar  Science  Monthly. 
Beginning  in  May,  1873,  this   publication  by  instalments 


X  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

has,  with  two  brief  intervals,  since  continued,  and  will  be 
completed  on  the  1st  October  next :  the  issue  of  this 
volume  being  delayed  until  after  that  date. 

Since  commencing  the  work,  I  have  not  regretted  that  I 
was  led  to  undertake  it.  Various  considerations  which 
seemed  needful  by  way  of  introduction  to  the  Principles 
of  Sociology^  presently  to  be  written,  and  which  yet  could 
not  be  conveniently  included  in  it,  have  found,  in  this 
preliminary  volume,  a  fit  place.  Much  illustrative  mate- 
rial also,  partly  accumulated  during  past  years  and  lying 
unused,  I  have  thus  gained  an  occasion  for  turning  to 
account.  Further,  the  opportunity  has  been  afforded  me 
of  commenting  on  special  topics  which  the  Principles  of 
Sociology  could  not  properly  recognize ;  and  of  comment- 
ing on  them  in  a  style  inadmissible  in  a  purely-philo- 
sophical treatise — a  style  adapted,  however,  as  I  hope,  to 
create  such  interest  in  the  subject  as  may  excite  to 
serious  pursuit  of  it. 

In  preparing  the  successive  chapters  for  final  publica- 
tion, I  have,  besides  carefully  revising  them,  here  and 
there  enforced  the  argument  by  a  further  illustration. 
Not  much,  however,  has  been  done  in  this  way :  the 
only  additions  of  moment  being  contained  in  the  Appen- 
dix. One  of  these,  pursuing  in  another  direction  the 
argument  concerning  academic  discipline,  will  be  found 
among  the  notes  to  Chapter  IX.  ;  and  another,  illus- 
trative of  the  irrelation  betwecii  intellectual  culture 
and  moral  feeling,  will  be  found  in  the  notes  to  Chap- 
ter XV. 

London,  July,  1873. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTEU  PAGE 

I. — Our  need  of  it 1 

II. — Is   THERE  A   SOCIAL   SCIENCE? 23 

III. — Nature  of  the  social  science 43 

IV. — Difficulties  of  the  social  science        ....  65 

V, — Objective  difficulties 68 

VI. — Subjective  difficulties — intellectual.        .        .        .  103 

VII. — Subjective  difficulties — emotional       ....  133 

VIII. — The  educational  bias 161 

IX. — The  bias  of  patriotism 185 

X. — The  class-bias 219 

XL — The  political  bias 239 

XII. — The  theological  bias 266 

XIIL— Discipline 286 

XIV. — Preparation  in  biology 298 

XV. — Preparation  in  psychology     .        .        .        .        .        .  324 

XVI.— Conclusion 350 

Postscript 369 

Notes 387 


XI 


THE   STUDY   OF   SOCIOLOGY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

OUR  NEED   OF   IT. 


Over  liis  pipe  in  the  village  ale-house,  the  labourer  says 
very  positively  what  Parliament  should  do  about  the  "foot 
and  mouth  disease."  At  the  farmer's  market-table,  his  master 
makes  the  glasses  jingle  as,  with  his  fist,  he  emphasizes  the  as- 
sertion that  he  did  not  get  half  enough  compensation  for  his 
slaughtered  beasts  during  the  cattle-plague.  These  are  not 
hesitating  opinions.  On  a  matter  affecting  the  agricultural 
interest,  statements  are  still  as  dogmatic  as  they  were  during 
the  Anti-Corn-Law  agitation,  when,  in  every  rural  circle,  you 
heard  that  the  nation  would  be  ruined  if  the  lightly-taxed  for- 
eigner was  allowed  to  comj)ete  in  our  markets  with  the  heav- 
ily-taxed Englishman  :  a  proi^osition  held  to  be  so  self-evident 
that  dissent  from  it  implied  either  stuj)idity  or  knavery. 

Now,  as  then,  may  be  daily  heai'd  among  other  classes, 
opinions  just  as  decided  and  just  as  unwarranted.  By  men 
called  educated,  the  old  i^lea  for  extravagant  expenditure,  that 
"  it  is  good  for  trade,"  is  still  continually  urged  with  full  be- 
lief in  its  sufficiency.  Scarcely  any  decrease  is  observable  in 
the  fallacy  that  whatever  gives  emx)loyment  is  beneficial :  no 
regard  being  had  to  the  value  for  ulterior  purposes  of  that 
which  the  labour  produces :  no  question  being  asked  what 
would  have  resulted  had  the  capital  which  paid  for  the  labour 
taken  some  other  channel  and  paid  for  some  other  labour. 
Neither  criticism  nor  explanation  appreciably  modifies  these 
beliefs.  When  there  is  again  an  opening  for  them  they  are 
expressed  with  undiminished  confidence.  Along  with  delu- 
sions of  this  kind  go  whole  families  of  others.    Peoj)le  who 

1 


2  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

tliink  that  the  relations  between  expenditure  and  production 
are  so  simple,  naturally  assume  simplicity  in  other  relations 
among  social  phenomena.  Is  there  distress  somewhere  ? 
They  suppose  nothing  more  is  required  than  to  subscribe 
money  for  relieving  it.  On  the  one  hand,  they  never  trace 
the  reactive  effects  which  charitable  donations  work  on  bank 
accounts,  on  the  surplus-capital  bankers  have  to  lend,  on  the 
productive  activity  which  the  capital  now  abstracted  would 
have  set  up,  on  the  number  of  la'uourers  who  would  have  re- 
ceived wages  and  who  now  go  without  wages — they  do  not 
perceive  that  certain  necessaries  of  life  have  been  withheld 
from  one  man  who  would  have  exchanged  useful  work  for 
them,  and  given  to  another  who  perhaps  persistently  evades 
Avorking.  Nor,  on  the  other  hand,  do  tliey  look  beyond  the 
immediate  mitigation  of  misery.  They  deliberately  shut  their 
eyes  to  the  fact  that  as  fast  as  they  increase  the  provision  for 
those  who  live  without  labour,  so  fast  do  they  increase  the 
number  of  those  who  live  without  labour ;  and  that  witli  an 
ever-increasing  distribution  of  alms,  there  comes  an  ever-in- 
creasing outcry  for  more  alms.  Similarly  throughout  all  their 
political  thinking.  Proximate  causes  and  proximate  results 
are  alone  contemplated.  There  is  scarcely  any  consciousness 
that  the  original  causes  are  often  numerous  and  widely  diifei*- 
ent  from  the  apparent  cause ;  and  that  beyond  each  immedi- 
ate result  there  will  be  multitudinous  remote  results,  most  of 
them  quite  incalculable. 

Minds  in  which  the  conceptions  of  social  actions  are  thus 
rudimentary,  ai'e  also  minds  ready  to  harbour  wild  hopes  of 
benefits  to  be  achieved  by  administrative  agencies.  In  each 
such  mind  there  seems  to  be  the  unexpressed  postulate  that 
every  evil  in  a  society  admits  of  cure;  and  that  tlie  cure  lies 
witliin  the  reach  of  law.  "Why  is  not  thei'e  a  better  inspec- 
tion of  tlie  mercantile  marine  ?"  asked  a  correspondent  of  tlie 
Times  tlie  other  day:  apparently  forgetting  that  witliin  tlie 
jirccoding  twelve  montbs  the  power  he  invoked  liad  lost  two 
of  its  own  vessels,  and  liarely  saved  a  third.  "  Ugly  buildings 
arc  eyesores,  and  should  not  be  allowed,"  urges  one  who  is 
anxious  for  .'pstlictic  culture.  Meanwhile,  from  the  agent 
which  is  to  foster  good  laste,  there  have  conic  nioiinnicMits  and 
public  buildings  of  wliich   tli(^  less  said   the  better;  and   its 


OUR  NEED   OB"'  IT.  3 

chosen  design  for  the  Law-Courts  meets  with  almost  universal 
condemnation.  "  Wliy  did  those  in  authority  allow  such  de- 
fective sanitary  arrangements  ?  "  was  everywliere  asked,  after 
the  fevers  at  Lord  Londesboroiigh's ;  and  this  question  you 
heard  repeated,  regardless  of  the  fact  that  sanitary  arrange- 
ments having  such  results  in  this  and  other  cases,  were  them- 
selves the  outcome  of  appointed  sanitary  administrations — 
regardless  of  the  fact  that  the  authorized  system  had  itself 
been  the  means  of  introducing  foul  gases  into  houses.*  "  The 
State  should  purchase  the  railways,"  is  confidently  asserted  by 
those  who,  every  morning,  read  of  chaos  at  the  Admiralty,  or 
cross-purposes  in  the  dockyards,  or  wretched  army-organiza- 
tion, or  diplomatic  bungling  that  endangers  peace,  or  frustration 
of  justice  by  technicalities  and  costs  and  delays, — all  witliout 
having  their  confidence  in  officialism  shaken.  "  Building  Acts 
should  insure  better  ventilation  in  small  houses,"  says  one  who 
either  never  knew  or  has  forgotten  that,  after  Messrs.  Reid  and 
Barry  had  spent  £300,000  in  failing  to  ventilate  the  Houses  of 
Parliament,  the  First  Commissioner  of  Works  proposed  that, 
"  the  House  should  get  some  competent  engineer,  above  sus- 
picion of  partiality,  to  let  them  see  what  ought  to  be  done."  "^ 
And  similarly  there  are  continually  cropping  out  in  the  press, 
and  at  meetings,  and  in  conversations,  such  notions  as  that  the 
State  might  provide  "  cheap  capital "  by  some  financial  sleight 
of.  hand  ;  that  "  there  ought  to  be  bread-overseers  aj^pointed  by 
Government :  "  ^  that  "  it  is  the  duty  of  Government  to  provide 
a  suitable  national  asylum  for  the  reception  of  all  illegitimate 
children."  *  And  here  it  is  doubtless  thought  by  some,  as  it  is 
in  France  by  M.  de  Lagevenais,  that  Government,  by  supply- 
ing good  music,  should  exclude  the  bad,  such  as  that  of  Offen- 
bach.^ We  smile  on  reading  of  that  French  princess,  cele- 
brated for  her  innocent  wonder  that  people  should  starve 
when  there  was  so  simple  a  remedy.  But  why  should  we 
smile  ?  A  great  part  of  the  current  political  thought  evinces 
notions  of  practicability  not  much  more  rational. 

That  connexions  among  social  phenomena  should  be  so 
little  understood,  need  not  surprise  us  if  we  note  the  ideas 
which  prevail  respecting  the  connexions  among  much  simpler 
phenomena.     Minds  left  ignorant  of  pliysical  causation,  are 


4  THE  STUDY   OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

unlikely  to  appreciate  clearly,  if  at  all,  that  causation  so  much 
more  subtle  and  complex,  which  runs  through  the  actions  of 
incorporated  men.  In  almost  every  house,  servants  and  those 
who  employ  them,  alike  believe  that  a  poker  leaned  up  in 
front  of  the  bai-s,  or  across  them,  makes  the  fire  burn ;  and 
you  will  be  told,  very  positively,  that  experience  proves  the 
efficacy  of  the  device — the  experience  being  that  the  poker  has 
been  repeatedly  so  placed  and  the  fu*e  has  repeatedly  burned ; 
and  no  comparisons  having  been  made  with  cases  in  which 
the  poker  was  absent,  and  all  other  conditions  as  before.  In 
the  same  circles  the  old  prejudice  against  sitting  down  thirteen 
to  dinner  still  survives:  there  actually  exists  among  ladies 
who  have  been  at  finishing  schools  of  the  highest  character, 
and  among  some  gentlemen  who  pass  as  intelligent,  the  con- 
viction that  adding  or  subtracting  one  from  a  number  of 
people  who  eat  together,  will  affect  the  fates  of  some  among 
them.  And  this  state  of  mind  is  again  displayed  at  the  card- 
table,  by  the  opinion  that  So-and-so  is  always  lucky  or  un- 
lucky— that  influences  are  at  work  which,  on  the  average, 
determine  more  good  cards  to  one  pei*son  than  to  another. 
Cleai'ly,  those  in  whom  the  consciousness  of  causation  in  these 
simjile  cases  is  so  vague,  may  be  expected  to  have  the  wildest 
notions  of  social  causation.  Whoever  even  entertains  the 
supposition  tliat  a  poker  put  across  the  fire  can  make  it  burn, 
proves  himself  to  have  neither  a  qualitative  nor  a  quantitative 
idea  of  physical  causation  ;  and  if,  during  liis  life,  his  experi- 
ences of  material  objects  and  actions  have  failed  to  give  him 
an  idea  so  accessible  and  so  simple,  it  is  not  likely  that  they 
have  given  him  ideas  of  the  qualitative  and  quantitative  rela- 
tions of  cause  and  effect  holding  tliroughout  society.  Hence, 
there  is  nothing  to  exclude  irrational  interpretations  and  dis- 
proportioned  hopes.  Where  other  superstitions  flourish,  polit- 
ical supei-stitions  will  take  root.  A  consciousness  in  wliich 
there  lives  ihc  idea  tliat  si)i]liiig  salt  Avill  lie  followed  by  some 
evil,  obviously  allied  as  it  is  to  the  con.sciousness  of  the  savage, 
filled  with  beliefs  in  omens  and  charms,  gives  a  home  to  other 
beliefs  like  (ho.sc  of  the  savage.  It  may  not  have  faith  in  the 
])otency  of  medicine-bags  and  idols,  and  may  even  wonder 
}iow  any  being  can  reverence  a  thing  shaiicd  with  his  own 
hands ;  and  yet  it  readily  entertains  subtler  forms  of  the  same 


OUR  NEED  OF  IT.  5 

feelings.  For,  in  those  whose  modes  of  tliought  we  have  been 
contemplating,  there  is  a  tacit  supposition  that  a  government 
moulded  by  themselves,  has  some  efficiency  beyond  tliat  natu- 
rally possessed  by  a  certain  group  of  citizens  subsidized  by  the 
rest  of  the  citizens.  True,  if  you  ask  them,  they  may  not  de- 
liberately assert  that  a  legislative  and  administrative  appa- 
ratus can  exert  power,  either  mental  or  material,  beyond  the 
power  pi'oceeding  from  the  nation  itself.  They  are  compelled 
to  admit,  when  cross-examined,  that  the  energies  moving  a 
governmental  machine  are  energies  which  would  cease  were 
citizens  to  cease  working  and  furnishing  the  supplies.  But, 
nevertheless,  their  projects  imply  an  unexpressed  belief  in 
some  store  of  force  that  is  not  measured  by  taxes.  When 
there  arises  the  question — Why  does  not  Government  do  this 
for  us  ?  there  is  not  the  accompanying  thought — Why  does 
not  Government  put  its  hands  in  om*  pockets,  and,  with  the 
proceeds,  pay  officials  to  do  this,  instead  of  leaving  us  to  do  it 
ourselves ;  but  the  accompanying  thought  is — Why  does  not 
Government,  out  of  its  inexhaustible  resources,  yield  us  this 
benefit  ? 

Such  modes  of  political  thinking,  then,  naturally  go  along 
with  such  conceptions  of  physical  phenomena  as  are  current. 
Just  as  the  perpetual-motion  schemer  hopes,  by  a  cunning 
arrangement  of  parts,  to  get  from  one  end  of  his  machine 
more  energy  than  he  puts  in  at  the  other  ;  so  the  ordinary  po- 
litical schemer  is  convinced  that  out  of  a  legislative  apparatus, 
properly  devised  and  worked  with  due  dexterity,  may  bo  had 
beneficial  State-action  without  any  detrimental  reaction.  He 
expects  to  get  out  of  a  stupid  people  the  effects  of  intelligence, 
and  to  evolve  from  inferior  citizens  superior  conduct. 

But  while  the  prevalence  of  crude  political  opinions  among 
those  whose  conceptions  about  simple  matters  are  so  crude, 
might  be  anticipated,  it  is  surprising  that  tlie  class  disciplined 
by  scientific  culture  should  bring  to  the  interpretation  of 
social  phenomena,  methods  but  little  in  advance  of  those  used 
by  others.  Now  that  the  transformation  and  equivalence  of 
forces  is  seen  by  men  of  science  to  hold  not  only  throughout 
all  inorganic  actions,  but  throughovit  all  organic  actions  ;  now 
that  even  mental  clianges  are  recognized  as  the  correlatives  of 


-.A-^r 


6  ^  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

cerebral  changes,  which  also  conform  to  this  principle ;  and 
now,  that  there  must  be  admitted  the  corollary,  that  all  ac- 
tions going-  on  in  a  society  are  measured  by  certain  antecedent 
energies,  which  disappear  in  effecting  them,  while  they  them- 
selves become  actual  or  potential  energies  from  which  subse- 
quent questions  arise  ;  it  is  strange  that  there  should  not  have 
arisen  the  consciousness  that  these  highest  phenomena  are  to 
be  studied  as  lower  phenomena  have  been  studied — not,  of 
course,  after  the  same  physical  methods,  but  in  conformity 
with  the  same  principles.  And  yet  scieutific  men  rarely  dis- 
play such  a  consciousness. 

A  mathematician  who  had  agreed  or  disagi-eed  with  the 
view  of  Professor  Tait  respecting  the  value  of  Quaternions  for 
pursuing  researches  in  Physics,  would  listen  with  raised  eye- 
brows were  one  without  mathematical  culture  to  express  a 
decided  o^Dinion  on  the  matter.  Or,  if  the  subject  discussed 
was  the  doctrine  of  Helmholtz,  that  hypothetical  beings  oc- 
cupying space  of  two  dimensions,  might  be  so  conditioned  that 
the  axioms  of  oui-  geometry  would  prove  untrue,  tl)e  mathe- 
maticiaji  would  marvel  if  an  affirmation  or  a  negation  came 
from  a  man  who  knew  no  niore  of  tlie  properties  of  space  than 
is  to  be  gained  by  daily  convei"se  witli  things  around,  and  no 
more  of  the  jirinciples  of  reasoning  than  the  com'se  of  business 
taught  him.  And  yet,  were  we  to  take  raembei's  of  the  Mathe- 
matical Society,  who,  having  severally  devoted  themselves 
to  the  laws  of  quantitative  relations,  know  that,  simple  as 
tliese  are  intrinsically,  a  life's  study  is  required  for  the  full 
comprehension  of  them — were  we  to  ask  each  of  these  his 
opinion  on  some  point  of  social  policy,  the  readiness  with 
wliich  he  answered  would  seem  to  imply  that  in  tliese  cases, 
wliere  the  factors  of  the  ]>henomena  are  so  numerous  and  so 
much  involved,  a  general  survey  of  men  and  things  gives  data 
for  trustworthy  judgments. 

Or,  to  contrast  more  fully  the  mode  of  reaching  a  conclu- 
sioii  which  tlie  man  of  science  uses  in  his  own  (lepartmoiit, 
with  that  which  he  regards  as  satisfactory  in  the  department 
of  i)olitics,  let  us  take  a  case  from  a  concrete  science :  say,  the 
question — What  are  the  solar  spots,  and  what  constitution  of 
the  Sun  is  iiiii)li<Hl  by  them  ?  Of  tentative  answers  to 

this  questi(jii  thnre  is  (irst  Wilson's,  adopted  hy  Sir  William 


OUR  NEED  OF  IT.  Y 

Herschel,  that  the  visible  surface  of  the  Sun  is  a  luminous  en- 
velope, within  which  there  are  cloudy  envelopes  covering  a 
dark  central  body ;  and  that  when,  by  some  disturbance,  the 
luminous  envelope  is  broken  through,  portions  of  the  cloudy 
envelope  and  of  the  dark  central  body,  become  visible  as  the 
penumbra  and  umbra  respectively.  This  hypothesis,  at  one 
time  received  with  favour  mainly  because  it  seemed  to  i^ermit 
that  teleological  interpretation  which  required  that  the  Sun 
should  be  habitable,  accounted  tolerably  well  for  certain  of 
the  appearances — more  especially  the  appearance  of  concavity 
which  the  spots  have  when  near  the  limb  of  the  Sun.  But 
though  Sir  John  Herschel  supported  his  father's  hypothesis, 
pointing  out  that  cyclonic  action  would  account  for  local  dis- 
persions of  the  photosphere,  there  has  of  late  years  become 
more  and  more  manifest  the  fatal  objection  that  the  genesis  of 
light  and  heat  remained  unexplained,  and  that  no  supposition 
of  auroral  discharges  did  more  than  remove  the  difficulty  a 
step  back ;  since,  unless  light  and  heat  could  be  perpetually 
generated  out  of  nothing,  there  must  be  a  store  of  force  per- 
petually being  expended  in  producing  them.  A  counter-hy- 
pothesis, following  naturally  from  the  hypothesis  of  nebular 
origin,  is  that  the  mass  of  the  Sun  must  be  incandescent ;  that 
its  incandescence  has  been  produced,  and  is  maintained,  by 
progressing  aggregation  of  its  once  widely-diffused  matter; 
and  that  surrounding  its  molten  surface  there  is  an  atmos- 
phere of  metallic  gases  continually  rising,  condensing  to  form 
the  visible  photosphere,  and  thence  precipitating.  What,  in 
this  case,  are  the  solar  spots  ?  Kirchhoff,  proceeding  upon  the 
hypothesis  just  indicated,  which  had  been  set  forth  before  he 
made  his  discoveries  by  the  aid  of  the  spectroscope,  contended 
that  the  solar  spots  are  simply  clouds,  formed  of  these  con- 
densed metallic  gases,  so  large  as  to  be  relatively  ojiaque ;  and 
he  endeavoured  to  account  for  their  changing  forms  as  the 
Sun's  rotation  carries  them  away,  in  correspondence  with  this 
view.  But  the  appearances  as  known  to  astronomers,  are  quite 
irreconcilable  with  the  belief  that  the  spots  are  simply  drift- 
ing clouds.  Do  these  appearances,  then,  conform  to  the  sup- 
position of  M.  Faye,  that  the  photosphere  encloses  matter 
which  is  wholly  gaseous  and  non-luminous ;  and  that  the 
spots  are  jn'oduced  when  occasional  up-rushes  from  the  in- 


8  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

terior  burst  through  the  photosphere  ?  This  supposition,  while 
it  may  be  held  to  account  for  certain  traits  of  the  spots,  and  to 
be  justified  by  the  observed  fact  that  there  are  up-rushes  of 
gas,  presents  difficulties  not  readily  disposed  of.  It  does  not 
explain  the  manifest  rotation  of  many  spots ;  nor,  indeed,  does 
it  seem  really  to  account  for  that  darkness  which  constitutes 
them  spots ;  since  a  non-luminous  gaseous  nucleus  would  be 
permeable  by  light  from  the  remoter  side  of  the  photosphere, 
and  hence  holes  through  the  near  side  of  the  photosphere 
would  not  look  dark.  There  is,  however,  another  hypothesis 
which  more  nearly  reconciles  the  facts.  Assuming  the  incan- 
descent molten  surface,  the  ascending  metallic  gases,  and  the 
formation  of  a  photosphere  at  that  outer  limit  where  the  gases 
condense ;  accepting  the  suggestion  of  Sir  John  Herschel,  so 
amply  supported  by  evidence,  that  zones  north  and  south  of 
the  Sun's  equator  are  subject  to  violent  cyclones ;  this  hy- 
pothesis is,  that  if  a  cyclone  occurs  within  the  atmosphere  of 
metallic  gases  between  the  molten  surface  and  the  photo- 
sphere, its  vortex  will  become  a  region  of  rarefaction,  of  re- 
frigeration, and  therefore  of  precipitation.  Thei-e  will  be 
formed  in  it  a  dense  cloud  extending  far  down  towards  the 
body  of  the  Sun,  and  obstructing  the  greater  part  of  tlie  light 
radiating  from  below.  Here  we  have  an  adequate  cause  for 
tlie  formation  of  an  opaque  vaporous  mass — a  cause  which 
also  accounts  for  the  frequently  observed  vortical  motion  ;  for 
the  greater  blackness  of  the  centi'al  part  of  the  umbra  ;  for  the 
formation  of  a  penumbra  by  the  drawiiig-iu  of  the  adjacent 
pliotosphere  ;  for  the  elongation  of  tlie  luminous  masses  form- 
ing the  photosphere,  and  the  turning  of  their  longer  axes 
towards  the  centre  of  the  spot ;  and  for  the  occasional  drift- 
ing of  them  over  the  spot  towards  its  centre.  Still,  there  is 
the  difficulty  that  vortical  motion  is  by  no  means  always  ob- 
servable ;  and  it  remains  to  be  considered  whether  its  non- 
visibility  in  many  cases  is  reconcilable  with  the  hypothesis. 
At  present  none  of  the  interpretations  can  be  regarded  as 
establisbcd.  S(^e.  then,  the  rigour  of  the  inquiry.     ITero 

arc  sundry  supijosilions  which  the  man  of  science  .severally 
testes  by  observations  and  neces.sary  inferences.  In  this,  as  in 
other  CJLse.s,  Tio  rejects  such  as  un(|uesnonal)ly  disagree  with 
unqnesli()iial)l('  tnillis.     (."oiilinually  excluding  untenable  liy- 


OUR  NEED  OF  IT.  9 

potheses,  he  waits  to  decide  among'  the  more  tenable  ones 
until  further  evidence  discloses  further  con^uities  or  incon- 
gruities. Checking  every  statement  of  fact  and  every  conclu- 
sion drawn,  he  keeps  his  judgment  suspended  until  no  anom- 
aly remains  unexplained.  Not  only  is  he  thus  careful  to  shut 
out  all  possible  error  from  inadequacy  in  the  number  and 
variety  of  data,  but  he  is  careful  to  shut  out  all  possible  error 
caused  by  idiosyncrasy  in  himself.  Though  not  perhaps  in 
astronomical  observations  such  as  those  above  implied,  yet  in 
all  astronomical  observations  where  the  element  of  time  is 
important,  he  makes  allowance  for  the  intervals  occupied  by 
his  nervous  actions.  To  fix  the  exact  moment  at  which  a  cer- 
tain change  occurred,  his  perception  of  it  has  to  be  corrected 
for  the  "personal  equation."  As  the  speed  of  the  nervous  dis- 
charge varies,  according  to  the  constitution,  from  thirty  to 
ninety  metres  per  second,  and  is  somewhat  greater  in  summer 
than  in  winter ;  and  as  between  seeing  a  change  and  register- 
ing it  with  the  finger,  there  is  an  interval  which  is  thus  ap- 
preciably different  in  different  persons  ;  the  particular  amount 
of  this  error  in  the  particular  observer  has  to  be  taken  into 
account. 

Suppose  now  that  to  a  man  of  science,  thus  careful  in  test- 
ing all  possible  hypotheses  and  excluding  all  possible  sources 
of  error,  we  put  a  sociological  question — say,  whether  some 
proposed  institution  will  be  beneficial.  An  answer,  and  often 
a  very  decided  one,  is  foi'thcoming  at  once.  It  is  not  thought 
needful,  proceeding  by  deliberate  induction,  to  ascertain  what 
has  happened  in  each  nation  where  an  identical  institution,  or 
an  institution  of  allied  kind,  has  been  established.  It  is  not 
thoug-ht  needful  to  look  back  in  our  own  history  to  see  whether 
kindred  agencies  have  done  what  they  were  expected  to  do.  It 
is  not  thought  needful  to  ask  the  more  general  question — how 
far  institutions  at  large,  among  all  nations  and  in  all  times, 
have  justified  the  theories  of  those  who  set  them  up.  Nor  is 
it  thought  needful  to  infer  from  analogous  cases,  what  is  likely 
to  happen  if  the  proposed  appliance  is  not  set  up — to  ascertain, 
inductively,  whether  in  its  absence  some  equivalent  apj^liance 
will  arise.  And  still  less  is  it  thought  needful  to  inquire  what 
will  be  the  indirect  actions  and  reactions  of  the  proposed  or- 
ganization— how  far  it  will  retard  other  social  agencies,  and 


10  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

how  far  it  will  prevent  the  spontaneous  growth  of  agencies 
having  like  ends.  I  do  not  mean  that  none  of  these  questions 
are  recognized  as  questions  to  be  asked  ;  but  I  mean  that  no 
attempts  are  made  after  a  scientific  manner  to  get  together 
materials  for  answering  them.  True,  some  data  have  been 
gathered  from  newspapers,  periodicals,  foreign  correspondence, 
books  of  travel ;  and  there  have  been  read  sundry  histories, 
which,  besides  copious  accounts  of  royal  misdemeanours,  con- 
tain minute  details  of  every  military  campaign,  and  careful 
disentanglings  of  diplomatic  trickeries.  And  on  information 
thus  acquired  a  confident  opinion  is  based.  Most  remarkable 
of  all,  however,  is  the  fact  that  no  allowance  is  made  for  the 
personal  equation.  In  political  observations  and  judgments, 
the  qualities  of  the  individual,  natural  and  acquired,  are  by 
far  the  most  important  factox*s.  The  bias  of  education,  the 
bias  of  class-relationships,  the  bias  of  nationality,  the  political 
bias,  the  theological  bias — these,  added  to  the  constitutional 
sympathies  and  antipathies,  have  much  more  influence  in  de- 
termining beliefs  on  social  questions  than  has  the  small 
amount  of  evidence  collected.  Yet,  though  in  his  search  after 
a  physical  truth,  the  man  of  science  allows  for  minute  errors 
of  perception  due  to  his  own  nature,  he  makes  no  allowance 
for  the  enormous  errors  which  his  own  nature  variously  mod- 
ified and  distorted  by  his  conditions  of  life,  is  sure  to  intro- 
duce into  his  perceptions  of  political  truth.  Here,  where  cor- 
rection for  the  personal  equation  is  all-essential,  it  does  not 
occur  to  him  that  thci'c  is  any  personal  eqiiation  to  be 
allowed  for. 

Tliis  immense  incongruity  between  the  attitude  in  which 
the  most  disci])lined  minds  a]iproach  other  orders  of  natural 
phenomena,  and  the  attitude  in  wliicb  they  api)roach  the  phe- 
nomena presented  by  societies,  will  be  best  illustrated  by  a 
series  of  antitheses  thus  : — 

The  material  luodia  through  which  we  see  fhings,  always 
more  or  less  falsify  the  facis:  inalviiig,  for  exanipl(\  the  a))|)ar- 
cnt  direction  of  a  stjir  slightly  diiferent  from  it.s  real  direction, 
and  sometimes,  as  when  a  fish  is  seen  in  the  water,  llic  a])])ar- 
ciit  i)lace  is  so  far  from  the  real  ])la('(',  that  gnvtl  nnsconcep- 
tion  results  ujiless  large  allowance  is  made  for  rcfi-acfion  ;  l)ut 


OUR  NEED  OF  IT.  H 

sociological  observations  are  not  thus  falsified :  through  the 
daily  press  light  comes  without  any  bending  of  its  rays,  and 
in  studying  past  ages  it  is  easy  to  make  allowance  for  the  re- 
fraction due  to  the  historic  medium.  The  motions  of 
gases,  though  they  conform  to  mechanical  laws  which  are 
well  understood,  are  nevertheless  so  involved,  that  the  art  of 
controlling  currents  of  air  in  a  house  is  not  yet  mastered ;  but 
the  waves  and  currents  of  feeling  running  through  a  society, 
and  the  consequent  directions  and  amounts  of  social  activities, 
may  be  readily  known  beforehand.  Though  molecules  of 
inorganic  substances  are  very  simple,  yet  prolonged  study  is 
required  to  understand  their  modes  of  behaviour  to  one 
another,  and  even  the  most  instructed  frequently  meet  with 
interactions  of  them  producing  consequences  they  never  antic- 
ipated ;  but  where  the  intei^acting  bodies  are  not  molecules  but 
living  beings  of  highly-complex  natures,  it  is  easy  to  foresee 
all  results  which  will  arise.  Physical  phenomena  are 
so  connected  that  between  seeming  probability  and  actual 
truth,  there  is  apt  to  be  a  w^de  difference,  even  w^here  but  two 
bodies  are  acting :  instance  the  natural  supi)osition  that  dur- 
ing our  northern  summer  the  Earth  is  nearer  to  the  Sun  than 
during  the  winter,  which  is  just  the  reverse  of  the  fact ;  but 
among  sociological  phenomena,  where  the  bodies  are  so  multi- 
tudinous, and  the  forces  by  which  they  act  on  one  another  so 
many,  and  so  multiform,  and  so  variable,  the  probability  and 
the  actuality  will  of  course  correspond.  Matter  often  be- 
haves paradoxically,  as  when  two  cold  liquids  added  together 
become  boiling  hot,  or  as  when  the  mixing  of  two  clear  liquids 
produces  an  opaque  mud,  or  as  when  water  immersed  in  sul- 
phurous acid  freezes  on  a  hot  iron  plate ;  but  what  we  dis- 
tinguish as  Mind,  especially  when  massed  together  in  the  way 
which  causes  social  action,  evolves  no  paradoxical  results — 
always  such  results  come  from  it  as  seem  likely  to  come. 

The  acceptance  of  contradictions  like  these,  tacitly  implied 
in  the  beliefs  of  the  scientifically  cultivated,  is  the  more  re- 
markable when  we  consider  how  abundant  are  the  proofs  that 
human  nature  is  difficult  to  manipulate  ;  that  methods  appar- 
ently the  most  rational  disai)point  expectation ;  and  that  the 
best  results  frequently  arise  from  courses  which  common  sense 
thinks  unpractical.    Even  individual  hmnan  nature  shows  us 


12  ^  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

these  startling  anomalies.  A  man  of  leisure  is  the  man  natu- 
rally fixed  upon  if  something  has  to  he  done  ;  but  your  man  of 
leisure  cannot  find  time,  and  the  man  most  likely  to  do  what 
is  wanted,  is  the  man  who  is  already  busy.  That  the  boy  who 
studies  longest  will  learn  most,  and  that  a  man  will  become 
wise  in  proportion  as  he  reads  much,  ai^e  propositions  which 
look  true  but  are  quite  untrue ;  as  teachers  are  now-a-days 
finding  out  in  the  one  case,  and  as  Hobbes  long  ago  found  out 
in  the  other.  How  obvious  it  appears  that  when  minds  go  de- 
ranged, there  is  no  remedy  but  replacing  the  weak  internal 
control  by  a  strong  external  control.  Yet  the  "  non-restraint 
system  "  has  had  far  more  success  than  the  system  of  sti'ait- 
waistcoats.  Dr.  Batty  Tuke,  a  physician  of  much  experience 
in  treating  the  insane,  has  lately  testified  that  the  desire  to  es- 
cape is  great  when  locks  and  keys  are  used,  but  almost  disap- 
pears when  they  ai'e  disused :  the  policy  of  unlocked  doors 
has  had  95  per  cent,  of  success  and  5  per  cent,  of  failure.'  And 
in  further  evidence  of  the  mischief  often  done  by  measures 
supposed  to  be  curative,  here  is  Dr.  Maudsley,  also  an  autlior- 
ity  on  such  questions,  speaking  of  "asylum-made  lunatics." 
Again,  is  it  not  cleai"  that  the  repression  of  crime  will  be 
eft'ectual  in  pi-oportion  as  the  punishment  is  severe  ?  Yet  the 
great  amelioration  in  our  penal  code,  initiated  by  Romillj',  lias 
not  been  followed  by  increased  criminality  but  by  decreased 
criminality  ;  and  the  testimonies  of  those  who  have  had  most 
experience — Maconochie  in  Norfolk  Island,  Dickson  in  West- 
ern Australia,  Obermier  in  Germany,  Montesinos  in  Spain — 
unite  to  show  that  in  proportion  as  the  criminal  is  left  to  sutfer 
no  other  penalty  than  that  of  maintaining  liimself  under  such 
restraints  only  as  are  needful  for  social  safety,  the  refonnation 
is  great :  exceeding,  indeed,  all  anticipation.  French  school- 
masters, never  questioning  the  belief  that  boys  can  be  made  to 
Ix'liave  well  only  by  rigid  disci]ilino  and  spies  to  aid  in  carry- 
ing it  out,  are  lustonished  on  visiting  England  to  find  how 
niucli  better  boys  Ix'have  when  they  m'c  less  governed:  nay 
more — among  Englisli  Ixiys  themselves,  Dr.  ArnoUl  has  shown 
tliat  more  trust  is  followed  by  iini)roved  conduct.  Similarly 
with  the  anomalies  of  incorj)orat('d  human  natun>.  Wt;  habit- 
ually a.ssuMie  that  only  by  legal  restraints  are  men  to  be  kept 
from  aggressing  on  their  neighbours  ;  and  yet  tliere  are  facts 


OUR  NEED  OP  IT.  13 

which  should  lead  us  to  qualify  our  assumption.  So-called 
debts  of  honour,  for  tlie  non-payment  of  which  there  is  no 
leg-al  penalty,  are  held  more  sacred  than  debts  that  can  be 
legally  enforced;  and  on  the  Stock-Exchange,  where  only 
pencil  memoranda  in  the  respective  note-books  of  two  brokers 
guarantee  the  sale  and  purchase  of  many  thousands,  contracts 
are  safer  than  those  which,  in  the  outside  world,  are  formally 
registered  in  signed  and  sealed  parchments. 

Multitudes  of  cases  might  be  accumulated  showing  how, 
in  other  directions,  men's  thoughts  and  feelings  produce  kinds 
of  conduct  which,  a  prio7H,  would  be  judged  very  improbable. 
And  if,  going  beyond  om-  own  society  and  our  own  time,  we  ^^ 
observe  what  has  happened  among  other  races,  and  among  the  ■ 
earlier  generations  of  our  own  race,  we  meet,  at  every  step,  : 
workings-out  of  human  nature  utterly  unlike  those  which  we  ; 
assume  when  making  political  forecasts.  Who,  generalizing  : 
the  experiences  of  his  daily  life,  would  suppose  that  men,  to 
please  their  gods,  would  swing  for  hours  from  hooks  drawn 
through  the  muscles  of  their  backs,  or  let  their  nails  grow 
through  the  palms  of  their  clenched  hands,  or  roll  over  and 
over  hundreds  of  miles  to  visit  a  shrine  ?  Who  would  have 
thought  it  possible  that  a  public  sentiment  and  a  private  feel- 
ing might  be  as  in  China,  where  a  criminal  can  buy  a  substi- 
tute to  be  executed  in  his  stead  :  tlie  substitute's  family  having 
the  money  ?  Or,  to  take  historical  cases  more  nearly  concern- 
ing ourselves — Who  foresaw  that  the  beliefs  in  purgatory  and 
priestly  intercession  would  cause  one-half  of  England  to  lapse 
into  the  hands  of  the  Church  ?  or  wlio  foresaw  that  a  defect 
in  the  law  of  mortmain  would  lead  to  bequests  of  large  estates 
consecrated  as  graveyards  ?  Who  could  have  imagined  that 
robber-kings  and  bandit-barons,  with  vassals  to  match,  would, 
generation  after  generation,  have  traversed  all  Eui-ope  through 
hardships  and  dangers  to  risk  their  lives  in  getting  possession 
of  the  reputed  burial  place  of  one  whose  injunction  was  to 
turn  the  left  cheek  when  the  right  was  smitten  ?  Or  who, 
again,  would  have  anticipated  that  when,  in  Jerusalem,  this 
same  teacher  disclaimed  political  aims,  and  repudiated  political 
instrumentalities,  the  professed  successors  of  his  disciples 
would  by  and  by  become  rulers  dominating  over  all  the  kings 
of  Europe  ?    Such  a  result  could  be  as  little  foreseen  as  it 


14  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

could  be  foreseen  that  an  instrument  of  torture  used  by  the 
Jews  would  give  the  ground-plans  to  Christian  temples 
thi'oughout  Eiu'ope  ;  and  as  little  as  it  could  be  foreseen  that 
the  process  of  this  torture,  recounted  in  Christian  narratives, 
might  come  to  be  mistaken  for  a  Christian  institution,  as  it 
was  by  the  Malay  chief  who,  being  expostulated  with  for  cru- 
cifying some  rebels,  replied  that  he  was  following  "  the  Eng- 
lish practice,"  which  he  read  in  "  their  sacred  books."  '' 

Look  where  we  will  at  the  genesis  of  social  phenomena,  we 
shall  similarly  find  that  while  the  particular  ends  contem- 
plated and  arranged  for  have  commonly  not  been  more  than 
temporarily  attained  if  attained  at  all,  the  changes  actually 
brought  about  have  ai'isen  from  causes  of  which  the  very  ex- 
istence was  unknown. 

How,  indeed,  can  any  man,  and  how  more  especially  can 
any  man  of  scientific  culture,  think  that  special  results  of 
special  political  acts  can  be  calculated,  when  he  contemplates 
the  incalculable  complexity  of  the  influences  under  which  each 
individual,  and  a  fortiori  each  society,  develops,  lives,  and 
decays  ?  The  multiplicity  of  the  factors  is  illustrated  even 
in  the  material  composition  of  a  man's  body.  Every  one  who 
watches  closely  the  course  of  things,  must  have  observed  that 
at  a  single  meal  he  may  take  in  bread  made  from  Russian 
wheat,  beef  from  Scotland,  potatoes  from  the  midland  coun- 
ties, sugar  from  the  Maui'itius,  salt  from  Cheshire,  pepper.from 
Jamaica,  curry-powder  from  India,  wine  from  France  or  Ger- 
many, currants  from  Greece,  oranges  from  Spain,  as  well  as 
various  spices  and  condiments  from  other  places;  and  if  ho 
considers  whence  came  the  draught  of  water  he  swallows, 
tracing  it  back  from  the  reservoir  through  tlie  stream  and  the 
brook  and  the  rill,  to  the  separate  rain-drops  which  fell  wide 
apart,  and  these  again  to  the  eddying  vapours  which  had  been 
iiiiiigliiig  and  jiarliiig  in  endless  ways  as  th(\v  drifted  over  the 
All.iiitic,  he  s(!('S  that  this  single  mouthful  of  water  contains 
molecules  which,  a  little  time  ago,  were  dispersed  over  hun- 
dreds of  square  miles  of  ocean  swell.  Similarly  tracing  back 
tlif!  history  of  each  solid  lu'  has  <>ateii,  he  finds  lliat  his  body  is 
made  up  of  elements  which  have  lately  come  from  all  jjarts 
of  the  Earth's  surface. 


N 


OUR  NEED  OF  IT.  15 

And  what  tlius  holds  of  the  substance  of  the  body,  holds 
no  less  of  the  influences,  physical  and  moral,  which  modify 
its  actions.  You  break  your  tootli  with  a  small  pebble  among 
the  currants,  because  the  industrial  organization  in  Zante  is  so 
imperfect.  A  dei*angement  of  your  digestion  goes  back  for  its 
cause  to  the  bungling  management  in  a  vineyard  on  the 
Rhine  several  years  ago ;  or  to  the  dishonesty  of  the  mer- 
chants at  Cette,  where  imitation  wines  are  produced.  Because 
there  happened  a  squabble  between  a  consul  and  a  king  in 
Abyssinia,  an  increased  income-tax  obliges  you  to  abridge  your 
autumn  holiday ;  or  because  slave-owners  in  North  America 
try  to  extend  the  "  peculiar  institution  "  further  west,  there  re- 
sults here  a  party  dissension  which  perhaps  entails  on  you  loss 
of  friends.  If  from  these  remote  causes  you  turn  to  causes  at 
home,  you  find  that  your  doings  are  controlled  by  a.  plexus  of 
influences  too  involved  to  be  traced  beyond  its  first  meshes. 
Your  hours  of  business  are  pre-determined  by  the  general  hab- 
its of  the  community,  which  have  been  slowly  established  no 
one  knows  how.  Your  meals  have  to  be  taken  at  intervals 
which  do  not  suit  your  health ;  but  under  existing  social  ar- 
rangements you  must  submit.  Such  intercourse  with  friends 
as  you  can  get,  is  at  hours  and  under  regulations  which 
everybody  adopts,  but  for  which  nobody  is  responsible ; 
and  you  have  to  yield  to  a  ceremonial  which  substitutes 
trouble  for  pleasure.  Your  opinions,  political  and  religious, 
are  ready  moulded  for  you ;  and  unless  your  individual- 
ity is  very  decided,  your  social  surroundings  will  prove  too 
strong  for  it.  Nay,  even  such  an  insignificant  event  as 
the  coming-of-age  of  grouse  afTects  your  goings  and  comings 
throughout  life.  For  has  not  the  dissolution  of  Parliament 
direct  reference  to  the  12th  of  August  ?  and  does  not  the  dis- 
solution end  the  London  season  ?  and  does  not  the  London 
season  determine  the  times  for  business  and  relaxation,  and  so 
affect  the  making  of  arrangements  throughout  the  year  ?  If 
from  co-existing  influences  we  turn  to  influences  that  have 
been  working  through  past  time,  the  same  general  truth  be- 
comes still  more  conspicuous.  Ask  how  it  happens  that  men 
in  England  do  not  work  every  seventh  day,  and  you  have  to 
seek  through  thousands  of  past  years  to  find  the  initial  cause. 
Ask  why  in  England,  and  still  more  in  Scotland,  there  is  not 
'  3 


JS 


IG  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

only  a  cessation  from  work,  which  the  creed  interdicts,  but 
also  a  cessation  from  amusement,  which  it  does  not  interdict ; 
and  for  an  exj^lanation  you  must  go  back  to  successive  waves 
of  ascetic  fanaticism  in  generations  long  dead.  And  what 
thus  holds  of  religious  ideas  and  usages,  holds  of  all  others, 
Xjolitical  and  social.  Even  the  industrial  activities  are  often 
permanently  turned  out  of  their  normal  directions  by  social 
states  that  passed  away  many  ages  ago  :  witness  what  has  hap- 
pened throughout  the  East,  or  in  Italy,  where  towns  and  vil- 
lages are  still  perched  on  hills  and  eminences  chosen  for  de- 
fensive purposes  in  turbulent  times,  and  where  the  lives  of  the 
inhabitants  are  now  made  laborious  by  having  daily  to  carry 
themselves  and  all  the  necessaries  of  life  from  a  low  level  to  a 
high  level. 

The  extreme  complexity  of  social  actions,  and  the  tran- 
scendent difficulty  which  hence  ai-ises  of  counting  on  special 
results,  will  be  still  better  seen  if  we  enumerate  the  factors 
which  determine  one  simple  phenomenon,  as  the  price  of  a 
commodity, — say,  cotton.  A  manufacturer  of  calicoes  has  to 
'decide  whether  he  will  increase  his  stock  of  raw  material  at 
its  current  price.  Before  doing  this,  he  must  ascci'taiu,  as  well 
as  he  can,  the  following  data : — Whether  the  stocks  of  calico 
in  the  hands  of  manufacturers  and  wholesalers  at  home,  are 
large  or  small ;  whether  by  recent  prices  retailers  have  been 
led  to  lay  in  stocks  or  not ;  whether  the  colonial  and  foreijrn 
markets  are  glutted  or  otherwise  ;  and  what  is  now,  and  is 
likely  to  be,  tlie  production  of  calico  by  foreign  manufacturers. 
Having  formed  some  idea  of  the  probable  demand  for  calico, 
he  has  to  ask  what  other  manufacturers  have  done,  and  are 
doing,  as  l)uyers  of  cotton— whether  they  have  been  waiting 
for  the  price  to  fall,  or  have  been  buying  in  anticipation  of  a 
rise.  From  cotton-brokers'  circulars  lie  has  to  judge  whjit  is 
the  state  of  speculation  at  Liverpool — whether  tlie  stocks  there 
are  large  or  small,  and  whetlier  many  or  few  cargoes  are  on 
tlieir  way.  Tlio  stocks  and  ])ri<-i's  at  Now  Orl(>ans,  and  at  other 
cotton-])orts  throughout  the  world,  have  also  to  be  kik(>n  note 
of;  and  tlion  there  come  questions  respecting  fortliconiing 
crops  in  tlie  Southern  States,  in  India,  in  Kgy])t,  and  elsc- 
wlierc.  II<'n»  an>  sulTicienlly-niuucrons  factors,  l)ut  these  ;iro 
by  jio  means  all.     The  consumptioJi  of  calico,  and  thereforo 


OUR  NEED   OF  IT.  I7 

the  consumption  of  cotton,  and  therefore  the  price  of  cotton, 
depends  in  part  on  the  supplies  and  prices  of  other  textile  fab- 
rics. If,  as  happened  during  the  American  Civil  War,  calico 
rises  in  price  because  its  raw  material  becomes  scarce,  linen 
comes  into  more  general  use,  and  so  a  further  rise  in  price  is 
checked.  Woollen  fabrics,  also,  may  to  some  extent  compete. 
And,  besides  the  competition  caused  by  relative  prices,  there  is 
the  comjDetition  caused  by  fashion,  which  may  or  may  not  pres- 
ently change.  Surely  the  factors  are  now  all  enumerated  ?  By 
no  means.  There  is  the  estimation  of  mercantile  opinion.  The 
views  of  buyers  and  sellers  respecting  future  prices,  never  more 
than  approximations  to  tlie  truth,  often  diverge  from  it  very 
widely.  Waves  of  opinion,  now  in  excess  now  in  defect  of  the 
fact,  rise  and  fall  daily,  and  larger  ones  weekly  and  montlily, 
tending,  every  now  and  then,  to  run  into  mania  or  panic ;  for  it 
is  among  men  of  business  as  among  other  men,  that  they  stand 
hesitating  until  some  one  sets  the  example,  and  then  rush  all  one 
way,  like  a  flock  of  sheep  after  a  leader.  These  characteristics 
in  human  nature,  leading  to  these  perturbations,  the  far-seeing 
buyer  takes  into  account — judging  how  far  existing  influences 
have  made  opinion  deviate  from  the  truth,  and  how  far  im- 
pending influences  are  likely  to  do  it.  Nor  has  he  got  to  the 
end  of  the  matter  even  when  he  has  considered  all  these 
things.  He  has  still  to  ask  what  are  the  general  mercantile 
conditions  of  the  country,  and  what  the  immediate  future  of 
the  money  market  will  be ;  since  the  course  of  speculation  in 
every  commodity  must  be  affected  by  the  rate  of  discount. 
See,  then,  the  enormous  complication  of  causes  which  deter- 
mine so  simple  a  thing  as  the  rise  or  fall  of  a  farthing  per 
pound  in  cotton  some  months  hence  ! 

If  the  genesis  of  social  phenomena  is  so  involved  in  cases 
like  this,  where  the  effect  produced  has  no  concrete  jiersistence 
but  very  soon  dissipates,  judge  what  it  must  be  where  there  is 
produced  something  which  continues  thereafter  to  be  an  in- 
creasing agency,  capable  of  self -propagation.  Not  only  has 
a  society  as  a  whole  a  power  of  growth  and  development,  but 
each  institution  set  up  in  it  has  the  like — draws  to  itself  units 
of  the  society  and  nutriment  for  them,  and  tends  ever  to  mul- 
tiply and  ramify.  Indeed,  the  instinct  of  self-preservation  in 
each  institution  soon  becomes  dominant  over  everything  else ; 


18  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

and  maintains  it  when  it  ]3erforms  some  quite  other  function 
than  that  intended,  or  no  function  at  all.  See,  for  instance, 
what  has  come  of  the  "  Society  of  Jesus,"  Loyola  set  up ;  or 
see  what  grew  out  of  the  company  of  traders  who  got  a  foot- 
ing on  the  coast  of  Hindostan. 

To  such  considerations  as  these,  set  down  to  show  the  in- 
consistency of  those  who  think  that  prevision  of  social  phenom- 
ena is  possible  without  much  study,  though  much  study  is 
needed  for  prevision  of  other  phenomena,  it  will  doubtless  be 
replied  that  time  does  not  allow  of  systematic  inquiry.  From 
the  scientific,  as  from  the  unscientific,  there  will  come  the  plea 
that,  in  his  capacity  of  citizen,  each  man  has  to  act — must 
vote,  and  must  decide  before  he  votes — must  conclude  to  the 
best  of  his  ability  on  such  information  as  he  has. 

In  this  plea  there  is  some  truth,  mingled  with  a  good  deal 
more  that  looks  like  truth.  It  is  a  product  of  that  "  must-do- 
something"  impulse  which  is  the  origin  of  mxicli  mischief, 
individual  and  social.  An  amiable  anxiety  to  undo  or  neutral- 
ize an  evil,  often  prompts  to  rash  coui-ses,  as  you  may  see  in 
the  hurry  with  which  one  who  has  fallen  is  snatched  up  by 
those  at  hand  ;  just  as  though  tliere  were  danger  in  letting 
him  lie,  wliicli  there  is  not,  and  no  danger  in  incautiously 
raising  him,  which  there  is.  Always  you  find  among  people 
in  proportion  as  they  are  ignorant,  a  belief  in  specifics,  and  a 
great  confidence  in  pressing  the  adoption  of  them.  Has  some 
one  a  pain  in  tlie  side,  or  in  the  chest,  or  in  the  bowels  ?  Then, 
before  any  careful  inquiry  as  to  its  probable  cause,  there  comes 
an  urgent  recommendation  of  a  never-failing  remedy,  joined 
probaljly  with  the  remark  tliat  if  it  does  no  good  it  can  do  no 
liarin.  There  still  prevails  in  the  average  mind  a  largo  amount 
of  the  fctishi.slic  cojicei)ti()n  clearly  shown  by  a  butler  to  some 
friends  of  mine,  who,  having  been  found  to  di'ain  the  half- 
emptied  medicine-bottles,  explained  that  ho  thought  it  a  pity 
good  ])hysic  should  be  wasted,  and  that  wliat  benefited  liis 
ni;i.ster  would  benefit  liim.  But  as  fast  :is  crude  concejjtions 
of  (lisca.ses  and  niinedial  measures  grow  uj)  into  I'athology  and 
Therapeutics,  we  find  increasing  caution,  along  with  increas- 
ing prcK)f  tliat  evil  is  often  done  in.st<'ad  of  good.  This  coii- 
tra.st  is  tra<'cal)l('  not  only  as  we  pass  from  poi)ular  ignorance 


OUR  NEED  OF  IT.  19 

to  professional  knowledge,  but  as  we  pass  from  the  smaller 
professional  knowledge  of  early  times  to  the  greater  pro- 
fessional knowledge  of  our  own.  The  question  with  the  mod- 
ern physician  is  not  as  with  the  ancient — shall  the  treatment 
be  blood-letting  ?  shall  cathartics,  or  shall  diaphoretics  be 
given  ?  or  shall  mercurials  be  administered  ?  But  there  rises 
the  previous  question— shall  there  be  any  treatment  beyond 
a  wholesome  regimen  ?  And  even  among  existing  physicians 
it  happens  that  in  proportion  as  the  judgment  is  most  culti- 
vated, there  is  the  least  yielding  to  the  "  must-do-something  " 
impulse. 

Is  it  not  possible,  then— is  it  not  even  probable,  that  this 
supposed  necessity  for  immediate  action,  which  is  put  in  as  an 
excuse  for  drawing  quick  conclusions  from  few  data,  is  the  con- 
comitant of  deficient  knowledge  ?  Is  it  not  probable  that  as  in 
Biology  so  in  Sociology,  the  accumulation  of  more  facts,  the 
more  critical  comparison  of  them,  and  the  drawing  of  con- 
clusions on  scientific  methods,  wull  be  accompanied  by  in- 
creasing doubt  about  the  benefits  to  be  secured,  and  increasing 
fear  of  the  mischiefs  which  may  be  worked  ?  Is  it  not  prob- 
able that  what  in  the  individual  organism  is  improperly, 
though  conveniently,  called  the  vis  medicatrix  naturce,  may 
be  found  to  have  its  analogue  in  the  social  organism  ?  and 
will  there  not  vei*y  likely  come  along  with  the  recognition  of 
this,  the  consciousness  that  in  both  cases  the  one  thing  need- 
ful is  to  maintain  the  conditions  under  which  the  natural 
actions  have  fair  play  ?  Such  a  consciousness,  to  be  antici- 
pated from  increased  knowledge,  will  diminish  the  force  of 
this  plea  for  prompt  decision  after  little  inquiry  ;  since  it  will 
check  this  tendency  to  think  of  a  remedial  measure  as  one 
that  may  do  good  and  cannot  do  harm.  Nay  more,  the  study 
of  Sociology,  scientifically  carried  on  by  tracing  back  proxi- 
mate causes  to  remote  ones,  and  tracing  down  primary  effects 
to  secondary  and  tertiary  effects  which  multiply  as  they  dif- 
fuse, will  dissipate  the  current  illusion  that  social  evils 
admit  of  radical  cui*es.  Given  an  average  defect  of  nature 
among  the  units  of  a  society,  and  no  skilful  manipulation  of 
them  will  prevent  that  defect  from  producing  its  equivalent  of 
bad  results.  It  is  possible  to  change  the  form  of  these  bad 
results ;  it  is  possible  to  change  the  places  at  which  they  are 


20  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

raaiiifested ;  but  it  is  not  possible  to  get  rid  of  tliem.  The 
belief  that  faulty  character  can  so  organize  itself  socially,  as  to 
get  out  of  itself  a  conduct  which  is  not  proportionately  faulty, 
is  an  utterly-baseless  belief.  You  may  alter  the  incidence  of 
the  mischief,  but  the  amount  of  it  must  inevitably  be  borne 
somewhere.  Very  generally  it  is  simply  thrust  out  of  one 
form  into  another ;  as  when,  in  Austria,  improvident  marriages 
being  prevented,  there  come  more  numerous  illegitimate  chil- 
dren ;  or  as  when,  to  mitigate  the  misery  of  foundlings,  hos- 
pitals are  provided  for  them,  and  there  is  an  increase  in  the 
number  of  infants  abandoned  ;  or  as  when,  to  insui'e  the  sta- 
bility of  houses,  a  Building  Act  prescribes  a  structure  which, 
making  small  houses  unremunerative,  prevents  due  multipli- 
cation of  them,  and  so  causes  overcrowding;  or  as  when  a 
Lodging-House  Act  forbids  this  overcrowding,  and  vagrants 
have  to  sleep  under  the  Adelphi-arches,  or  in  the  Parks,  or 
even,  for  warmth's  sake,  on  the  dung-heaps  in  mews.  Where 
the  evil  does  not,  as  in  cases  like  these,  reappear  in  another 
place  or  form,  it  is  necessarily  felt  in  the  shape  of  a  diif used 
privation.  For  suppose  that  by  some  official  instrumentality 
you  actually  suppress  an  evil,  instead  of  tlirusting  it  from  one 
spot  into  another — suppose  you  thus  successfully  deal  with  a 
number  of  such  evils  by  a  number  of  such  instrumentalities ; 
do  you  tliink  these  evils  have  disappeared  absolutely  ?  To 
see  that  they  have  not,  you  have  but  to  ask — Whence  comes 
the  official  apparatus  ?  What  defrays  the  cost  of  working  it  ? 
Who  sui)plies  the  necessaries  of  life  to  its  members  through  all 
their  gradations  of  rank  ?  Thei*e  is  no  other  source  but  tlio 
labour  of  peasants  and  artizans.  When,  as  in  France,  the  ad- 
ministrative agencies  occupy  some  (iOO.OOO  men,  who  are  taken 
from  industrial  pursuits,  and,  with  their  families,  supported  in 
more  than  average  comfort,  it  becomes  clear  enough  that 
lieavy  extra  work  is  entailed  on  the  producing  classes.  The 
ah'cady-tircd  labourer  lias  to  toil  an  additional  hour ;  liis 
wile  has  to  lielp  in  the  fields  as  well  as  to  suckle  her  in- 
fant ;  his  cliihlrcn  are  still  more  scantily  fed  tlian  they 
would  otlicrwise  be;  nud  Itcyoiul  a  decreased  share  of  re- 
turns from  inerca.sed  labour,  there  is  a  diniinislu'd  time  and 
eiuTgy  for  sucli  small  enjoyments  as  tlio  life,  piliubh^  at  <ho 
best.  jH-rmits.     llow,  then,  can  it  be  supposed  that  the  evils 


OUR  NEED   OF  IT.  21 

have  been  extinguished  or  escaped  ?  The  repressive  action 
has  had  its  corresponding  reaction  ;  and  instead  of  intenser 
miseries  here  and  there,  or  now  and  then,  you  have  got  a 
misery  that  is  constant  and  universal. 

When  it  is  thus  seen  that  the  evils  are  not  removed,  but  at 
best  only  re-distributed,  and  that  the  question  in  any  case  is 
whether  re-distribution,  even  if  practicable,  is  desirable;  it 
will  be  seen  that  the  "  must-do-something "  plea  is  quite  in- 
sufficient. There  is  ample  reason  to  believe  that  in  proportion 
as  scientific  men  carry  into  this  most-involved  class  of  phe- 
nomena, the  methods  they  have  successfully  adopted  with 
other  classes,  they  will  f)erceive  that,  even  less  in  this  class 
than  in  other  classes,  are  conclusions  to  be  drawn  and  action 
to  be  taken  without  prolonged  and  critical  investigation. 

Still  there  will  recur  the  same  plea  under  other  forms.  "  Po- 
litical conduct  must  be  matter  of  compromise."  "  We  must 
adapt  our  measures  to  immediate  exigencies,  and  cannot  be 
deterred  by  remote  considerations."  "  The  data  for  forming 
scientific  judgments  are  not  to  be  had  :  most  of  them  are  un- 
recorded, and  those  which  are  recorded  are  difficult  to  find  as 
well  as  doubtful  when  found."  "Life  is  too  short,  and  the 
demands  upon  our  energies  too  great,  to  permit  any  such  elab- 
orate study  as  seems  required.  We  must,  therefore,  guide  our- 
selves by  common  sense  as  best  we  may." 

And  then,  behind  the  more  scientifically-minded  who  give 
this  answer,  there  are  those  who  hold,  tacitly  or  overtly,  that 
guidance  of  the  kind  indicated  is  not  possible,  even  after  any 
amount  of  inquiry.  They  do  not  believe  in  any  ascertainable 
order  among  social  phenomena— there  is  no  such  thing  as  a 
social  science.  This  proposition  we  will  discuss  in  the  next 
chapter. 


v^ 


J 


\^^ 


^ 


CHAPTER  II. 

IS  THERE   A  SOCIAL  SCIENCE  ? 

Almost  every  autumn  may  be  heard  the  remark  that  a 
hard  winter  is  coming,  for  that  the  hips  and  haws  are  abun- 
dant :  the  implied  belief  being  that  God,  intending  to  send 
much  frost  and  snow,  has  provided  a  large  store  of  food  for 
the  birds.  Interpretations  of  this  kind,  tacit  or  avowed,  j^re- 
vail  widely.  Not  many  weeks  since,  one  who  had  received 
the  usual  amount  of  culture  said  in  my  hearing,  that  the 
swarm  of  lady-birds  which  overspread  the  country  some  sum- 
mers ago,  had  been  providentially  designed  to  save  the  crop 
of  hops  from  the  destroying  apliides.  Of  course  this  theory  of 
the  divine  government,  here  applied  to  occurrences  bearing 
but  indirectly,  if  at  all,  on  human  welfare,  is  applied  with  still 
greater  confidence  to  occurrences  that  directly  affect  us,  indi- 
vidually and  socially.  It  is  a  theory  carried  out  with  logical 
ciMisistency  by  the  Methodist  who,  befoi-e  going  on  a  joui'ney 
or  removing  to  another  house,  opens  his  Bible,  and  in  the  first 
passage  his  eye  rests  upon,  finds  an  intimation  of  approval  or 
disajjproval  from  heaven.  And  in  its  political  applications  it 
yields  sucli  appr()i)riute  beliefs  as  that  the  welfare  of  England 
in  comparison  with  Continental  States,  has  been  a  reward  for 
better  observance  of  the  Sunday,  oi-  that  an  invasion  of  cliol- 
era  Avas  consequent  on  the  omission  of  Dei  gratia  from  an 
issuer  of  coins. 

Tlie  interi)r('lalion  of  liislorical  events  in  general  after  this 
same  method,  accom])anies  sucli  interi)reta.tions  of  ordinary 
pa.ssing  events;  ;iii(I.  indeed,  outlives  tliem.  Tliose  to  whom 
the  natiu'al  genesis  of  siinplei-  phenomena  has  been  made 
manif(;st  by  incre;i,sing  knowledge,  still  believe  in  tlie  su])er- 
natural  genesis  of  phenomena  that  are  very  much  involved, 

22 


IS  THERE  A  SOCIAL  SCIENCE?  23 

and  cannot  have  their  causes  readily  traced.  The  form  of 
mind  which,  in  an  official  despatch,  prompts  the  statement 
that  "  it  has  pleased  Almighty  God  to  vouchsafe  to  the  British 
arms  the  most  successful  issue  to  the  extensive  combinations 
rendered  necessary  for  the  purpose  of  effecting  the  passage  of 
the  Chenaub," '  is  a  form  of  mind  which,  in  the  records  of  the 
past,  everywhere  sees  interpositions  of  the  Deity  to  bring  about 
results  that  appear  to  the  interpreter  the  most  desirable.  Thus, 
for  example,  Mr.  Schomberg  writes  : — 

"  It  seemed  good  to  the  All-beneficent  Disposer  of  human  events, 
to  overrule  every  obstacle ;  and  through  His  instrument,  William  of 
Normandy,  to  expurgate  the  evils  of  the  land ;  and  to  resuscitate  its 
dying  powers."  * 

And  elsewhere :  — 

"  The  time  had  now  arrived  when  the  Almighty  Governor,  after 
having  severely  punished  the  whole  nation,  was  intending  to  raise  its 
drooping  head — to  give  a  more  rapid  impulse  to  its  prosperity,  and  to 
cause  it  to  stand  forth  more  prominently  as  an  Exemplar  State.  For 
this  end.  He  raised  np  an  individual  eminently  fitted  for  the  intended 
work  "[Henry  VII.  J.« 

And  again : — 

"  As  if  to  mark  this  epoch  of  liistory  with  greater  distinctness,  it 
was  closed  by  the  death  of  George  HI.,  the  Great  and  the  Good,  who 
had  been  raised  up  as  the  grand  instrument  of  its  accomplishment."* 

The  late  catastrophes  on  the  Continent  are  similarly  ex- 
plained by  a  French  writer  who,  like  the  English  writer  just 
quoted,  professes  to  have  looked  behind  the  veil  of  things ; 
and  who  tells  us  what  have  been  the  intentions  of  God  in 
chastising  his  chosen  people,  the  French.  For  it  is  to  be  ob- 
served in  passing  that,  just  as  the  evangelicals  among  our- 
selves think  we  are  divinely  blessed  because  we  have  preserved 
(he  purity  of  the  faith,  so  it  is  obvious  to  the  author  of  La 
Main  de  VHovime  et  le  Doigt  de  Dieu,  as  to  other  Frenchmen, 
that  France  is  hereafter  still  to  be,  as  it  has  hitherto  been,  the 
leader  of  the  world.  This  writer,  in  chapters  entitled  "  Causes 
providentielles  de  nos  malheurs,"  "  Les  Prussiens  et  les  fleaux 
de  Dieu,"  and  "  Justilication  do  la  Providence,"  carries  out  his 
interpretations  in  ways  we  need  not  here  follow,  and  then 
closes  his  "  Epilogue  "  with  these  sentences : — 


24  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

"  La  Revolution  moderee,  habile,  sagace,  machiavelique,  diabolique- 
ment  sage,  a  ete  vaincue  et  confondue  par  la  justice  divine  dans  la 
personne  et  dans  le  gouvernement  de  Napoleon  III. 

"  La  Revolution  exaltee,  bouillonnante,  etourdie,  a  ete  vaincue  et 
confondue  par  la  justice  divine  dans  les  personnes  et  dans  les  gouverne- 
ments  successifs  de  Gambetta  et  de  Felix  Pyat  et  compagnie. 

"  La  sagesse  humaine,  applaudie  et  trioinphante,  personnifiee  dans 
M.  Thiers,  ne  tardera  pas  a  etre  vaincue  et  confondue  par  cette 
meme  Revolution  deux  fois  humiliee,  mais  toujours  renaissante  et 
agressive." 

"  Ce  n'est  pas  une  prophetie :  c'est  la  prevision  de  la  philosophic  et 
de  la  foi  chretiennes. 

"Alors  ce  sera  vraiinent  le  tour  du  Tres-Haut;  car  il  faut  que 
Dieu  et  son  Fils  regnent  par  son  Evangile  et  par  son  Eglise. 

"  Ames  frangaises  et  chretiennes,  priez,  travaillez,  souffrez  et  ayez 
confiance!  nous  sommes  pres  de  la  fin.  C'est  quand  tout  Serablera 
perdu  que  tout  sera  vraiment  sauve. 

"  Si  la  France  avait  su  profiter  des  desastres  subis,  Dieu  lui  etit 
rendu  ses  premieres  favours.  Elle  s'obstine  dans  I'erreur  ct  le  vice. 
Croyons  que  Dieu  la  sauvera  malgre  elle,  en  la  regencrant  toutefois 
par  I'eau  et  par  le  feu.  C'est  quand  Timpuissance  humaine  apparait 
qu'eclate  la  sagesse  divine.  Mais  quelles  tribulations!  quelles  an- 
goisses !  Ileureux  ceux  qui  survivront  et  joniront  du  triomphe  de 
Dieu  et  de  son  ifiglise  sainte,  catholique,  apostolique  et  romame." ' 

Conceptions  of  this  kind  are  not  limited  to  historians 
whose  names  have  dropped  out  of  remembrance,  and  to  men 
who,  while  the  drama  of  contemporary  revolution  is  going 
on,  play  the  part  of  a  Greek  chorus,  telling  the  world  of  spec- 
tators what  has  been  the  divine  purpose  and  what  are  the  di- 
vine intentions  ;  but  we  have  lately  had  a  Professor  of  History 
setting  fortli  conceptions  essentially  identical  in  nature.  Here 
are  his  words  : — 

"And  now,  gentlemen,  wiis  this  vast  campaign  [of  Teutons  against 
Romans]  fouglit  witliout  a  general  ?  If  Trafalgar  could  not  be  won 
without  the  mind  of  a  Nelson,  or  Waterloo  without  the  mnid  of  a 
Wellington,  was  there  no  one  mind  to  load  those  innumerable  armies 
on  whose  success  depended  the  future  of  the  whole  human  race  f  Did 
no  one  marshal  tliom  in  tliat  impregnable  convex  front,  from  tho 
J^uxinc  to  the  Nortli  Sea?  No  one  guide  tliem  to  tlie  two  great 
strategic  centres  of  tho  Black  Forest  and  Trieste?  No  one  cause 
them,  blind  barbarians  without  maps  or  science,  to  follow  tliose  rules 
of  war  without  which  victory  in  a  protracted  struggle  is  impossible; 


IS  THERE  A  SOCIAL  SCIENCE?  25 

and  by  the  pressure  of  the  Iluns  behind,  force  on  tlieir  flagging  myri- 
ads to  an  enterprise  which  their  simplicity  fancied  at  first  beyond  the 
powers  of  mortal  men "?  Believe  it  who  will :  but  I  cannot.  1  may  be 
told  that  they  gravitated  into  their  places,  as  stones  and  mud  do 
Be  it  so.  They  obeyed  natural  laws  of  course,  as  all  things  do  on 
earth,  when  they  obeyed  the  laws  of  war :  those,  too,  are  natural  laws, 
explicable  on  simple  mathematical  principles.  But  while  I  believe 
that  not  a  stone  or  a  handful  of  mud  gravitates  into  its  place  without 
the  will  of  God  ;  that  it  was  ordained,  ages  since,  into  what  particular 
spot  each  grain  of  gold  should  be  washed  down  from  an  Australian 
quartz  reef,  that  a  certain  man  might  find  it  at  a  certain  moment  and 
crisis  of  his  life  ;— if  I  be  superstitious  enough  (as,  thank  God,  I  am) 
to  hold  that  creed,  shall  I  not  believe  that,  though  this  great  war  had 
no  general  upon  earth,  it  may  have  had  a  general  in  heaven  ?  and 
that,  in  spite  of  all  their  sins,  the  hosts  of  our  forefathers  were  the 
hosts  of  God."  6 

It  does  not  concern  us  here  to  seek  a  reconciliation  of  the 
incongruous  ideas  bracketed  together  in  this  paragraph — to 
ask  how  the  results  of  gravitation,  which  acts  with  such  uni- 
formity that  under  given  conditions  its  effect  is  calculable 
with  certainty,  can  at  the  same  time  be  regarded  as  the  results 
of  will,  which  we  class  apart  because,  as  known  by  our  expe- 
rience, it  is  comparatively  irregular ;  or  to  ask  how,  if  the 
course  of  human  affairs  is  divinely  pre-determined  just  as 
material  changes  are,  any  distinction  is  to  be  drawn  between 
that  prevision  of  material  changes  which  constitutes  physical 
science  and  historical  prevision  :  the  reader  may  be  left  to 
evolve  the  obvious  conclusion  that  either  the  current  idea  of 
physical  causation  has  to  be  abandoned,  or  the  current  idea  of 
will  has  to  be  abandoned.  All  which  I  need  call  attention  to 
as  indicating  the  general  character  of  such  interpretations,  is 
the  remarkable  title  of  the  chapter  containing  this  passage — 
"  The  Strategy  of  Pi'ovidence." 

In  common  with  some  others,  I  have  often  wondered  how 
the  Universe  looks  to  those  who  use  such  names  for  its  Cause 
as  "The  Master  Builder,"  or  "The  Great  Artificer;"  and  who 
seem  to  think  that  the  Cause  of  the  Universe  is  made  more 
marvellous  by  comparing  its  operations  to  those  of  a  skilled 
mechanic.  But  really  the  expression,  "Strategy  of  Provi- 
dence," reveals  a  conception  of  this  Cause  which  is  in  some 
respects  more  puzzling.    Such  a  title  as  "The  Great  Artificer," 


26  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

while  suggesting  simply  the  process  of  shaping  a  pre-existing 
material,  and  leaving  the  question  whence  this  material  came 
untouched,  may  at  any  rate  be  said  not  to  negative  the  assump- 
tion that  tlie  material  is  created  by  "The  Great  Artificer" 
who  shapes  it.  The  phrase,  "  Strategy  of  Providence,"  how- 
ever, necessarily  implies  difficulties  to  be  overcome.  The 
Divine  Strategist  must  have  a  skilful  antagonist  to  make 
strategy  possible.  So  that  we  are  inevitably  introduced  to  the 
conception  of  a  Cause  of  the  Universe  continually  impeded 
by  some  independent  cause  which  has  to  be  out-generalled. 
It  is  not  every  one  who  would  thank  God  for  a  belief,  the  im- 
plication of  which  is  that  God  is  obliged  to  overcome  opposi- 
tion by  subtle  devices. 

The  disguises  which  piety  puts  on  are,  indeed,  not  unfre- 
quently  suggestive  of  that  which  some  would  describe  by  a 
quite  opposite  name.  To  study  the  Universe  as  it  is  manifested 
to  us ;  to  ascertain  by  patient  observation  the  order  of  the 
manifestations ;  to  discover  that  the  manifestations  are  con- 
nected with  one  another  after  a  regular  way  in  Time  and 
Space ;  and,  after  repeated  failures,  to  give  up  as  futile  the 
attempt  to  understand  the  Power  manifested ;  is  condemned 
as  irreligious.  And  meanwhile  tlie  character  of  religious  is 
claimed  by  tliose  who  figure  to  themselves  a  Creator  moved 
by  motives  like  their  own ;  who  conceive  themselves  as  dis- 
covering his  designs ;  and  who  even  speak  of  him  as  though 
he  laid  plans  to  outwit  the  Devil ! 

This,  however,  by  the  way.  The  foregoing  extracts  and 
comments  are  intended  to  indicate  the  mental  attitude  of 
those  for  whom  there  can  be  no  such  thing  as  Sociology,  prop- 
erly so  called.  Tliat  mode  of  conceiving  human  alfairs  which 
is  implied  alike  by  tbe  "D.V."of  a  missionarv-m(>etiiig  placard 
and  by  the  ])hraKes  of  Emperor  William's  late  dcsjiatclies, 
where  thanks  to  God  come  next  to  (■iiuuici-ations  of  the  thou- 
sands slain,  is  one  to  which  tlie  idea  of  a  Social  Science  is 
entirely  alien,  and  indeed  re])Hgnant. 

r^  An  allied  class,  equally  uni)rei)ared  to  interpret  sociologi- 
cal phenomena  scicntilically.  is  tbe  class  wliicli  sees  in  the 
course  of  civilization  littlo  «'lse  than  a  record  of  remarkable 
persons  and  tlieir  doings.     One  wlio  is  cons])icuous  as  the  ex- 


IS  THERE  A  SOCIAL  SCIENCE?  27 

ponent  of  this  view  writes: — "As  I  take  it,  universal  history, 
the  history  of  what  man  has  accomijlished  in  this  world,  is  at 
bottom  the  history  of  the  great  men  who  have  worked  here." 
And  this,  not  perhaps  distinctly  formulated,  but  everywhere 
implied,  is  the  belief  in  which  nearly  all  are  brought  up.  Let 
us  glance  at  the  genesis  of  it. 

Round  their  camp-fire  assembled  savages  tell  the  events  of 
the  day's  chase ;  and  he  among  them  who  has  done  some  feat 
of  skill  or  agility  is  duly  lauded.  On  a  return  from  the  war- 
path, the  sagacity  of  the  chief  and  the  strength  or  courage  of 
this  or  that  warrior,  are  the  all-absorbing  themes.  When  the 
day,  or  the  immediate  past,  affords  no  remarkable  deed,  the 
topic  is  the  achievement  of  some  noted  leader  lately  dead,  or 
some  traditional  founder  of  the  tribe :  accompanied,  it  may 
be,  with  a  dance  dramatically  representing  those  victories 
which  the  chant  recites.  Such  narratives,  concerning,  as  they 
do,  the  prosperity  and  indeed  the  very  existence  of  the  tribe, 
are  of  the  intensest  interest ;  and  in  them  we  have  the  com- 
mon root  of  music,  of  the  drama,  of  poetry,  of  biography,  of 
history,  and  of  literature  in  general.  Savage  life  furnishes 
little  else  worthy  of  note  ;  and  the  chronicles  of  tribes  contain 
scarcely  anything  more  to  be  remembered.  Early  his- 

toric races  show  us  the  same  thing.  The  Egyptian  frescoes 
and  the  wall-sculptures  of  the  Assyrians,  represent  the  deeds 
of  leading  men ;  and  inscriptions  such  as  that  on  the  Moabite 
stone,  tell  of  nothing  more  than  royal  achievements  :  only  by 
implication  do  these  records,  pictorial,  hieroglyphic,  or  written, 
convey  an5i;hing  else.  And  similarly  from  the  Greek  epics, 
though  we  gather  incidentally  that  there  were  towns,  and 
wai^vessels,  and  war-chariots,  and  sailors,  and  soldiers  to  be 
led  and  slain,  yet  the  direct  intention  is  to  set  forth  the 
triumphs  of  Achilles,  the  prowess  of  Ajax,  the  wisdom  of 
Ulysses,  and  the  like.  The  lessons  given  to  every  civilized 

child  tacitly  imply,  like  the  traditions  of  the  uncivilized  and 
semi-civilized,  that  throughout  the  past  of  the  human  race, 
the  doings  of  conspicuous  persons  have  been  the  only  things 
worthy  of  remembrance.  How  Abraham  girded  up  his  loins 
and  gat  him  to  this  place  or  that;  how  Samuel  conveyed 
divine  injunctions  which  Saul  disobeyed;  how  David  re- 
counted his  adventures  as  a  shepherd,  and  was  reproached  for 


28  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

his  misdeeds  as  a  king' — these,  and  personalities  akin  to  these, 
are  the  facts  about  which  the  juvenile  reader  of  the  Bible  is 
interested  and  respecting  which  he  is  catechized :  such  indica- 
tions of  Jewish  institutions  as  have  unavoidably  g*ot  into  the 
narrative,  being  regarded  neither  by  him  nor  by  his  teacher 
as  of  moment.  So  too,  when,  with  hands  behind  him,  he 
stands  to  say  his  lesson  out  of  Pinnock,  we  see  that  the  things 
set  down  for  him  to  learn,  are — when  and  by  whom  Eng- 
land was  invaded,  what  rulers  opposed  the  invasions  and  how 
thev  were  killed,  what  Alfred  did  and  what  Canute  said,  who 
fought  at  Agincourt  and  who  conquered  at  Flodden,  which 
king  abdicated  and  which  usurped,  &c.  ;  and  if  by  some 
chance  it  comes  out  that  there  were  serfs  in  those  days,  that 
barons  were  local  rulers,  some  vassals  of  others,  that  subordi- 
nation of  them  to  a  central  power  took  place  gi*adually,  these 
are  facts  treated  as  relatively  unimportant.  Nay,  the  like 

happens  when  the  boy  passes  into  the  hands  of  his  classical 
master,  at  home  or  elsewhere.  "  Ai'ms  and  the  man "  form 
the  end  of  the  story  as  they  form  its  beginning.  After  the 
mythology,  wliich  of  course  is  all-essential,  come  the  achieve- 
ments of  rulers  and  soldiers  from  Agamemnon  doAvn  to 
CjKsar :  what  knowledge  is  gained  of  social  organization,  man- 
ners, ideas,  morals,  being  little  more  than  the  biographical 
statements  involve.  And  the  value  of  the  knowledge  is  so 
ranked  that  while  it  would  be  a  disgrace  to  be  wrong  about 
the  amours  of  Zeus,  and  while  inability  to  name  the  com- 
mander at  Marathon  would  be  discreditable,  it  is  excusable  to 
know  nothing  of  the  social  condition  tliat  preceded  Lycurgiis 
or  of  the  origin  and  functions  of  the  Areopagus. 

Thus  the  great-man-theory  of  History  finds  everywhere  a 
ready-prepared  conception — is,  indccc^  but  the  definite  expres- 
sion of  tliat  which  is  latent  in  tlie  thouglits  of  tlic  savage, 
tacitly  asserted  in  all  early  traditions,  and  taught  to  eveiy 
child  by  multitudinous  illustrations.  The  glad  acceptance  it 
meets  with  has  sundry  more  si)ocial  oaiis(>s.  There  is, 

first,  this  universal  love  of  personalities,  which,  active  in  the 
aboriginal  man,  dominates  still — a  love  seen  in  the  urchin 
who  asks  you  to  tell  him  a  story,  meaning,  thereby,  some- 
body's adventures;  a  love  gratified  in  adults  by  police-reports, 
court-iKnvs,  divorce-ca.ses,  accounts  of  accidents    and  lists  of 


IS  TRERE  A  SOCIAL  SCIENCE?  29 

births,  marriages,  and  deaths  ;  a  love  displayed  even  by  con- 
versations in  the  streets,  where  fragments  of  dialogue,  heard 
in  passing,  show  that  mostly  between  men,  and  always  be- 
tween women,  the  personal  jjronouns  recur  every  instant.  If 
you  want  roughly  to  estimate  any  one's  mental  calibre,  you 
cannot  do  it  better  than  by  observing  a  ratio  of  generalities  to 
personalities  in  his  talk — how  far  simple  truths  about  indi- 
viduals are  replaced  by  truths  abstracted  from  numerous 
experiences  of  men  and  things.  And  when  you  have 
thus  measured  many,  you  find  but  a  scattered  few  likely 
to  take  anything  more  than  a  biographical  view  of  hmnan 
affairs.  In  the  second  place,  this  great-man-theory  com- 

mends itself  as  promising  instruction  along  with  amusement. 
Being  already  fond  of  hearing  about  people's  sayings  and 
doings,  it  is  pleasant  news  that,  to  understand  the  course  of 
civilization,  you  have  only  to  read  diligently  the  lives  of  dis- 
tinguished men.  What  can  be  a  more  acceptable  doctrine  than 
that  while  you  are  satisfying  an  instinct  not  very  remotely 
allied  to  that  of  the  village  gossip — while  you  are  receiving 
tln'ough  print  instead  of  orally,  remarkable  facts  concerning 
notable  persons,  you  are  gaining  that  knowledge  w^hich  will 
make  clear  to  you  why  things  have  happened  thus  or  thus  in 
the  world,  and  will  prepare  you  for  forming  a  right  opinion  on 
each  question  coming  before  you  as  a  citizen.  And  then, 

m  the  third  place,  the  interpretation  of  things  thus  given  is  so 
beautifully  simple — seems  so  easy  to  comprehend.  Providing 
you  are  content  witli  conceptions  that  are  out  of  focus,  as 
most  people's  conceptions  are,  the  solutions  it  yields  appear 
quite  satisfactory.  Just  as  that  theory  of  the  Solar  System  which 
supposes  the  planets  to  have  been  launched  into  their  orbits 
by  the  hand  of  the  Almighty,  looks  feasible  so  long  as  you  do 
not  insist  on  knowing  exactly  what  is  meant  by  the  hand  of 
the  Almighty ;  and  just  as  the  special  creation  of  plants  and 
animals  seems  a  tenable  hypothesis  until  you  try  and  picture 
to  yourself  definitely  the  process  by  which  one  of  them  is 
brought  into  existence  ;  so  the  genesis  of  societies  by  the 
actions  of  great  men,  may  be  comfortably  believed  so  long  as, 
resting  in  general  notions,  you  do  not  ask  for  particulars. 

Bxit  now,  if,  dissatisfied  with  vagueness,  we  demand  that 
our  ideas  shall  be  brought  into  focus  and  exactly  defined,  we 


30  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

discover  the  hypothesis  to  be  utterl^^  incoherent.  If,  not 
stopping  at  the  explanation  of  social  progress  as  due  to  the 
great  man,  we  go  back  a  step  and  ask  whence  comes  the  great 
man,  we  find  that  tlie  theory  breaks  down  completely.  The 
question  has  two  conceivable  answers :  his  origin  is  super- 
natm'al,  or  it  is  natural.  Is  his  origin  supernatural  ?  Then 
he  is  a  deputy-god,  and  we  have  Theocracy  once  removed — or, 
rather,  not  removed  at  all ;  for  we  must  then  agree  with  Mr. 
Schomberg,  quoted  above,  that  "  the  determination  of  Caesar 
to  invade  Britain  "  was  divinely  inspired,  and  that  from  him, 
down  to  "  George  III.  the  Great  and  the  Good,"  the  succes- 
sive rulers  were  appointed  to  carry  out  successive  designs.  Is 
this  an  unacceptable  solution  ?  Then  the  origin  of  the  great 
man  is  natural ;  and  immediately  this  is  recognized  he  must 
be  classed  with  all  other  phenomena  in  the  society  that  gave 
him  birth,  as  a  product  of  its  antecedents.  Along  with  the 
whole  generation  of  which  he  forms  a  minute  part — along 
with  its  institutions,  language,  loiowledge,  manners,  and  its 
multitudinous  arts  and  appliances,  he  is  a  resultant  of  au 
enormous  aggregate  of  forces  tliat  have  been  co-o])erating  for 
ages.  True,  if  you  please  to  ignore  all  that  common  observa- 
tion, verified  by  physiology,  teaches — if  you  assume  that  two 
Eui'opean  parents  may  produce  a  Negro  child,  or  that  from 
woolly-haired  prognathous  Papvxans  may  come  a  fair,  straight- 
haired  infant  of  Caucasian  type — you  may  assume  that  the 
advent  of  the  great  man  can  occur  anywhere  and  under  any 
conditions.  If,  disregai'ding  those  accumulated  results  of  ex- 
perience which  current  proverbs  and  the  generalizations  of 
psycljologists  alil^e  express,  you  suppose  that  a  Nowton  might 
be  born  in  a  Hottentot  family,  tliat  a  Milton  miglit  spring  up 
among  the  Andamanese,  that  a  Howard  or  a  Clarkson  might 
have  Fiji  ])arents,  then  you  may  proceed  wi I li  facilily  (»>  ex- 
plain social  progress  as  caused  l)y  the  aclions  of  the  gi-eat 
man.  But  if  all  biological  science,  enforcing  all  ])()])ular 
belief,  convinces  you  (hat  by  no  ])ossiI)i]ity  will  an  Aristotle 
come  fi'oin  a  father  and  mother  w  itli  f.ici.il  angles  of  fifty 
degrees,  and  tliat  out  of  a  tribe  of  cannibals,  whose  chorus  in 
preparation  for  a  fejust  of  human  flesh  is  a  kind  of  rhythmical 
roaring,  tlicn^  is  not  the  remotest  cliaiK^e  of  a  Beethoven  aris- 
ing; then  you  must  admit  that  tlie  genesis  of  the  great  man 


IS  THERE   A   SOCIAL  SCIENCE?  31 

depends  on  the  long  series  of  complex  influences  which  has 
produced  tlie  race  in  which  he  appears,  and  the  social  state 
into  which  that  race  has  slowly  grown.  If  it  be  a  fact  tliat 
the  great  man  may  modify  his  nation  in  its  structure  and 
actions,  it  is  also  a  fact  that  there  must  have  been  those  ante- 
cedent modifications  constituting  national  progress  before  he 
could  be  evolved.  Before  he  can  re-make  his  society,  his 
society  must  make  him.  So  that  all  those  changes  of  which 
he  is  the  proximate  initiator  have  their  chief  causes  in  the 
generations  he  descended  from.  If  there  is  to  be  anything 
like  a  real  explanation  of  these  changes,  it  must  be  souglit  in 
that  aggregate  of  conditions  out  of  which  both  he  and  they 
have  arisen. 

Even  were  we  to  grant  the  absurd  supposition  that  tlie 
genesis  of  the  great  man  does  not  depend  on  the  antecedents 
furnished  by  the  society  he  is  born  in,  there  would  still  be  the 
quite-sufficient  facts  that  he  is  powerless  in  the  absence  of  the 
material  and  mental  accumulations  which  his  society  inherits 
from  the  past,  and  that  he  is  powerless  in  the  absence  of  the 
co-existing  population,  character,  intelligence,  and  social  ar- 
rangements. Given  a  Siiakspeare,  and  what  dramas  could 
he  have  written  without  tlie  multitudinous  traditions  of  civil- 
ized life — without  the  various  experiences  which,  descending 
to  him  from  the  past,  gave  wealth  to  his  thought,  and  without 
the  language  which  a  hundred  generations  liad  developed  and 
^iriched  by  use  ?  Suppose  a  Watt,  with  all  his  inventive 
power,  living  in  a  tribe  ignorant  of  iron,  or  in  a  tribe  that 
could  get  only  as  much  iron  as  a  fire  blown  by  hand-bellows 
will  smelt;  or  suppose  him  born  among  ourselves  before 
lathes  existed;  what  chance  would  there  have  been  of  the 
steam-engine  ?  Imagine  a  Laplace  unaided  by  that  slowly- 
developed  system  of  Mathematics  which  we  trace  back  to  its 
beginnings  among  the  Egyptians ;  how  far  would  he  have  got 
with  the  Mecanique  Celeste  f  Nay,  the  like  questions  may  be 
put  and  have  like  answei-s.  even  if  we  limit  ourselves  to  those 
classes  of  great  men  on  whose  doings  hero-worshippers  more 
particularly  dwell — the  rulers  and  generals.  Xenophon  could 
not  have  achieved  his  celebrated  feat  had  his  Ten  Thousand 
been  feeble,  or  cowardly,  or  insubordinate.  Caesar  would 
never  have  made  his  conquests  without  disciplined  troo^js,  in- 
4 


32  THE  STUDY   OF   SOCIOLOGY. 

heriting  tlieir  prestige  and  tactics  and  org-anization  from  the 
Romans  who  lived  before  them.  And,  to  take  a  recent  in- 
stance, the  strategical  genius  of  Moltke  would  have  triumphed 
in  no  great  campaigns  had  there  not  been  a  nation  of  some 
forty  millions  to  supply  soldiers,  and  had  not  those  soldiers 
been  men  of  strong  bodies,  sturdy  charactei'S,  obedient  na- 
tures, and  capable  of  carrying  out  orders  intelligently. 

Were  any  one  to  marvel  over  the  potency  of  a  grain  of  det- 
onating powder,  which  explodes  a  cannon,  propels  the  shell, 
and  sinks  a  vessel  hit — were  he  to  enlarge  on  the  transcendent 
virtues  of  this  detonating  powder,  not  mentioning  the  ignited 
charge,  the  shell,  the  cannon,  and  all  that  enormous  aggre- 
gate of  appliances  by  which  these  have  severally  been  pro- 
duced, detonating  powder  included  ;  we  should  not  regard  his 
interpretation  as  very  rational.  But  it  would  fairly  compare 
in  rationality  with  this  interpretation  of  social  phenomena 
which,  dwelling  on  the  impoi-tant  changes  the  great  man 
works,  ignores  that  vast  pre-existing  supply  of  latent  power  he 
unlocks,  and  that  immeasurable  accumulation  of  antecedenis 
to  which  both  he  and  this  power  are  due. 

Recognizing  what  truth  there  is  in  the  gi'eat-man-theory, 
we  may  say  that,  if  limited  to  early  societies,  the  histories  of 
which  are  little  else  than  endeavours  to  destroy  or  subju- 
gate one  another,  it  approximately  expresses  the  fact  in  rep- 
resenting the  capable  leader  as  all-important;  though  even 
here  it  leaves  out  of  siglit  too  nnich  the  number  and  the 
quality  of  his  followers.  But  its  immense  error  lies  in 
the  assumption  that  what  was  once  true  is  true  for  ever; 
and  that  a  relation  of  ruler  and  ruled  which  was  possible 
and  good  at  one  time  is  possible  and  good  for  all  time. 
Just  as  fast  as  this  ])redatory  activity  of  early  tribes  dimin- 
ishes, just  as  fast  as  larger  aggregates  are  formed  l)y  con- 
quest or  otherwise,  just  as  fast  as  war  ceases  to  be  the  busi- 
ness of  th(!  wliole  male  population,  so  f;is(  do  .societies  begin 
tf)  develop,  to  sliow  traces  of  structures  and  functions  not 
bcfon;  ])ossiblc,  to  acquire  increasing  coin])h'xily  along  witli 
increasing  size,  to  give  origin  to  new  institutions,  new  activi- 
ties, new  ideas,  sentiments,  ■and  liabifs;  all  of  wliicli  unob- 
trusivi^ly  make  their  ai)|)earan<'e  without  thc^  lliought  of  any 
king  or  legi.slator.      An<l    if    yon   wisli    to    undci-shind    these 


IS  THERE  A   SOCIAL  SCIENCE?  33 

phenomena  of  social  evolution,  you  will  not  do  it  though  you 
slioukl  read  yourself  blind  over  the  biograi^hies  of  all  tlie 
great  rulers  on  record,  down  to  Frederick  the  Greedy  and 
Napoleon  the  Treacherous. 

In  addition  to  that  passive  denial  of  a  Social  Science  im- 
plied by  these  two  allied  doctrines,  one  or  other  of  which  is 
held  by  nine  men  out  of  ten,  there  comes  from  some  an  active 
denial  of  it — either  entire  or  pai'tial.  Reasons  are  given  for 
the  belief  that  no  such  thing  is  possible.  The  invalidity  of 
these  reasons  can  be  shown  only  after  the  essential  nature  of 
Social  Science,  overlooked  by  those  who  give  them,  has  been 
pointed  out ;  and  to  point  tliis  out  here  would  be  to  forestal 
the  argument.  Some  minor  criticisms  may,  however,  fitly 
precede  the  major  criticism.  Let  us  consider  first  the  positions 
taken  up  by  Mr.  Froude  : — 

"  When  natural  causes  are  liable  to  be  set  aside  and  neutralized  by 
•what  is  called  volition,  the  word  Science  is  out  of  place.  If  it  is  free 
to  a  man  to  choose  what  he  will  do  or  not  do,  there  is  no  adequate 
science  of  him.  If  there  is  a  science  of  him,  there  is  no  free  choice, 
and  the  praise  or  blame  with  which  we  regard  one  another  are  im- 
pertinent and  out  of  place."  '' 

"  It  is  in  this  marvellous  power  in  men  to  do  wrong  .  .  .  that 
the  impossibility  stands  of  forming  scientific  calculations  of  what  men 
will  do  before  the  fact,  or  scientific  explanations  of  what  they  have 
done  after  the  fact."  ® 

"  Mr.  Buckle  would  deliver  himself  from  the  eccentricities  of  this 
and  that  individual  by  a  doctrine  of  averages.  .  .  .  Unfortunately 
the  average  of  one  generation  need  not  be  the  average  of  the  next : 
.    .    .    no  two  generations  are  alike."  ^ 

"  There  [in  history]  the  phenomena  never  repeat  themselves.  There 
we  are  dependent  wholly  on  the  record  of  things  said  to  have  hap- 
pened once,  but  which  never  happen  or  can  hapjien  a  second  time. 
There  no  experiment  is  possible ;  we  can  watch  for  no  recurring  fact 
to  test  the  worth  of  our  conjectures."  *". 

Here  Mr.  Froude  changes  the  venue,  and  joins  issue  on  the 
old  battle-ground  of  free  will  versus  necessity :  declaring  a 
Social  Science  to  be  incompatible  with  free  will.  The  first 
extract  implies,  not  simply  that  individual  volition  is  incal- 
culable— that  "'there  is  no  adequate  science  of"  man  (no  Sci- 
ence of  Psychology)  •,  but  it  also  asserts,  by  implication,  that 


34:  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

thei'e  are  no  causal  relations  aniono:  his  states  of  mind  :  the 
volition  by  which  "  natural  causes  are  liable  to  be  set  aside," 
being  put  in  antithesis  to  natural,  must  be  supernatural. 
Hence  we  are,  in  fact,  carried  back  to  that  primitive  form  of 
interpretation  contemplated  at  the  outset.  A  fiirther  com- 

ment is,  that  because  volitions  of  some  kinds  cannot  be  fore- 
seen, Mr.  Froude  argues  as  though  no  volitions  can  be  fore- 
seen :  ignoring  the  fact  that  the  simple  volitions  determining 
ordinary  conduct,  are  so  regular  tliat  prevision  having  a  high 
degree  of  probability  is  easy.  If,  in  crossing  a  street,  a  man 
sees  a  carriage  coming  upon  him,  you  may  safely  assert  that, 
in  nine  hundred  and  ninety- nine  cases  out  of  a  thousand,  he 
will  try  to  get  out  of  the  way.  If,  being  pressed  to  catch  a 
train,  he  knows  that  by  one  route  it  is  a  mile  to  the  station 
and  by  another  two  miles,  you  may  conclude  with  consider- 
able confidence  that  he  will  take  the  one-mile  route ;  and 
should  he  be  aware  that  losing  the  train  will  lose  him  a  for- 
tune, it  is  pretty  certain  that,  if  he  has  but  ten  minutes  to  do 
the  mile  in,  he  will  either  run  or  call  a  cab.  If  he  can  buy 
next  door  a  commodity  of  daily  consumption  better  and 
cheaper  than  at  the  other  end  of  the  town,  we  may  affirm 
that,  if  he  does  not  buy  next  door,  some  special  relation  be- 
tween him  and  the  remoter  shop-keeper  furnishes  a  sti'ong 
reason  for  taking  a  worse  commodity  at  greater  cost  of  money 
and  trouble.  And  though,  if  he  has  an  estate  to  dispose  of,  it 
is  within  the  limits  of  possibility  that  he  will  sell  it  to  A  for 
£1.000,  though  B  has  oifered  £2,000  for  it;  yet  the  unusual 
motives  leading  to  such  an  act  need  scarcely  be  taken  into 
account  as  qualifying  the  generalization  that  a  man  will  sell 
to  the  highest  bidder.  Now,  since  the  predominant  activities 
of  citizens  are  detvnnined  by  motives  of  this  degree  of  regu- 
larity, tliere  nui.st  be  resulting  social  ])lienomena  that  have 
corresponding  degrees  of  regularity — greater  degi-ees,  indeed, 
since  in  them  the  effects  of  excejjtional  ntotives  become  lost  in 
the  effects  of  the  aggregate  of  ordinary  motives.  .Vnothcr 

coninicnt  may  l)<>  added.  Mr.  Froude  exaggerates  the  antith- 
esis he  draws  by  using  a  conct'ption  of  science  which  is  too 
narn)w  :  he  sjieaks  as  though  there  were  no  science  but  e.xact 
science.  Scientific  ))revision.s,  both  qualitative  and  quantita- 
tive, have  virions  degrees  of  (Iclinitencss  ;  and  because  among 


IS   THERE   A   SOCIAL  SCIENCE?  35 

certain  classes  of  plienomena  the  previsions  are  approximate 
only,  it  is  not,  therefore,  to  be  said  that  there  is  no  science  of 
those  phenomena  :  if  tliere  is  some  prevision,  there  is  some  sci- 
ence. Take,  for  example.  Meteorology.  The  Derby  has  been 
run  in  a  snow-storm,  and  you  may  occasionally  want  a  fire  in 
July ;  but  such  anomalies  do  not  prevent  us  from  being-  jjer- 
fectly  certain  that  the  coming  summer  will  be  warmer  than 
the  past  winter.  Our  south-westerly  gales  in  the  autumn  may 
come  early  or  may  come  late,  may  be  violent  or  moderate,  at 
one  time  or  at  intervals ;  but  that  there  will  be  an  excess  of 
wind  from  the  south-west  at  that  part  of  the  year  we  may  be 
sure.  The  like  holds  with  the  relations  of  rain  and  dry  weather 
to  the  quantity  of  water  in  tlie  air  and  the  weight  of  the  at- 
mospheric column  :  though  exactly-true  x)redictions  cannot  be 
made,  approximately-true  ones  can.  So  that,  even  were  there 
not  among  social  phenomena  more  definite  relations  than 
these  (and  the  all-important  ones  are  far  more  definite),  there 
would  still  be  a  Social  Science.  Once  more,  Mr.  Froude  con- 

tends that  the  facts  presented  in  history  do  not  furnish  subject- 
matter  for  science,  because  they  "  never  repeat  themselves,"— 
because  "  we  can  watch  for  no  recurring  fact  to  test  the  worth 
of  our  conjectures."  I  will  not  meet  this  assertion  by  the 
counter-assertion  often  made,  that  historic  phenomena  do  re- 
peat themselves  ;  but,  admitting  that  Mr.  Froude  here  touches 
on  one  of  the  great  difficulties  of  the  Social  Science  (that  social 
phenomena  are  in  so  considerable  a  degree  diflferent  in  each 
case  from  what  they  were  in  preceding  cases),  I  still  find  a 
sufficient  reply.  For  in  no  concrete  science  is  there  absolute 
repetition ;  and  in  some  concrete  sciences  the  repetition  is  no 
more  specific  than  in  Sociology.  Even  in  the  most  exact  of 
them.  Astronomy,  the  combinations  are  never  the  same  twice 
over ;  the  repetitions  are  but  approximate.  And  on  turning 
to  Geology,  we  find  that,  though  the  processes  of  denudation, 
deposition,  upheaval,  subsidence,  have  been  ever  going  on  in 
conformity  with  laws  more  or  less  clearly  generalized,  the 
effects  have  been  always  new  in  their  proportions  and  ar- 
rangements ;  though  not  so  completely  new  as  to  forbid  com- 
parisons, consequent  deductions,  and  approximate  previsions 
based  on  them. 

Were  there  no  such  replies  as  these  to  Mr.  Froude's  rea- 


36  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

sons,  there  -^ould  still  be  the  reply  furnished  by  his  own  inter- 
pretations of  history ;  "which  make  it  clear  that  his  denial  must 
be  understood  as  but  a  qualified  one.  Against  his  professed 
theory  may  be  set  his  actual  practice,  which,  as  it  seems  to 
me,  tacitly  asserts  that  explanations  of  some  social  phenomena 
in  terms  of  cause  and  effect  are  possible,  if  not  explanations 
of  all  social  i^henomena.  Thus,  respecting  the  Vagrancy  Act 
of  1547,  which  made  a  slave  of  a  confirmed  vagrant,  Mr. 
Froude  says : — "  In  the  condition  of  things  which  was  now 
commencing  ....  neither  this  nor  any  other  penal  act 
against  idleness  could  be  practically  enforced."  "  That  is  to 
say,  the  operation  of  an  agency  brought  into  play  was  neu- 
ti'alized  by  the  ojjeration  of  natural  causes  coexisting.  Again, 
respecting  the  enclosure  of  commons  and  amalgamation  of 
farms,  &c.,  Mr.  Froude  writes : — "  Under  the  late  reign  these 
tendencies  had,  with  great  difficulty,  been  held  partially  in 
check,  but  on  the  death  of  Henry  they  acquired  new  force  and 
activity."  '*  Or,  in  other  words,  certain  social  forces  previ- 
ously antagonized  by  cei*tain  other  forces,  produced  their  nat- 
ural effects  when  the  antagonism  ceased.  Yet  again,  Mr. 
Froude  explains  that,  "unhappily,  two  causes  [debased  cur- 
rency and  an  alteration  of  the  farming  system]  were  operating 
to  produce  the  I'ise  of  prices."  "  And  tlu'oughoiit  Mr.  Froude's 
History  of  England  there  are,  I  need  scarcely  say,  other  cases 
in  which  he  ascribes  social  changes  to  causes  rooted  in  human 
natm-e.  Moreover,  in  his  lecture  on  The  Science  of  History, 
there  is  a  distinct  enunciation  of  "one  lesson  of  History;" 
namely,  that  "  the  moral  law  is  written  on  the  tablets  of  eter- 
nity  Justice  and  truth  alone  endure  and  live.  In- 
justice and  falsehood  may  be  long-lived,  but  doc^nsday  comes 
at  last  to  tboni.  in  French  revohitions  and  otlier  terrible  ways." 
And  elsewhere  be  says  tliat  "  tlie  miseries  and  horrors  which 
are  now  destroying  the  Chinese  Empire  arc  the  direct  and  or- 
ganic results  of  the  moral  ])rofligacy  of  its  inhabitants."" 
Each  of  (h«'se  st;it(MiHMits  tacitly  asserts  thnt  certain  social  rela- 
tions, and  actions  of  certain  kinds,  are  inevitably  beneficial, 
and  otliers  inevitably  d(>lrirnental — an  historic  induction  fur- 
nishing a  basis  for  ])().sitive  deduction.  So  that  we  must  not 
interprcit  Mr.  Froiule  too  literally  when  he  alleg(>s  the  "  impos- 
sibilitv  of  forming  scientific  calculations  of  what  men  will 


IS  THERE  A  SOCIAL  SCIENCE?  37 

do  before  the  fact,  or  scientific  explanations  of  what  they  have 
done  after  the  fact." 

Another  writer  who  denies  the  possibility  of  a  Social 
Science,  or  who,  at  any  rate,  admits  it  only  as  a  science  which 
lias  its  relations  of  phenomena  so  traversed  by  providential 
influences  that  it  does  not  come  within  the  proper  definition 
of  a  science,  is  Canon  Kingsley.  In  his  address  on  The  Limits 
of  Exact  Science  as  applied  to  History,  he  says  :— 

"  You  say  that  as  the  laws  of  matter  are  inevitable,  so  probably  are 
the  laws  of  human  life?  Be  it  so:  but  in  what  sense  are  the  laws  of 
matter  inevitable ?  Potentially  or  actually?  Even  in  the  seemingly 
most  uniform  and  universal  law,  where  do  we  find  the  inevitable  or 
the  irresistible?  Is  there  not  in  nature  a  perpetual  competition  of 
law  against  law,  force  against  force,  producing  the  most  endless  and 
unexpected  variety  of  results?  Cannot  each  law  be  interfered  with  at 
any  moment  by  some  other  law,  so  that  the  first  law,  though  it  may 
struggle  for  the  mastery,  shall  be  for  an  indefinite  time  utterly  de- 
feated? The  law  of  gravity  is  immutable  enough  :  but  do  all  stones 
veritably  fall  to  the  ground  ?  Certainly  not,  if  I  choose  to  catch  one, 
and  keep  it  in  my  hand.  It  remains  there  by  laws ;  and  the  law  of 
gravity  is  there,  too,  making  it  feel  heavy  in  my  hand :  but  it  has  not 
fallen  to  the  ground,  and  will  not,  till  I  let  it.  So  much  for  the  inev- 
itable action  of  the  laws  of  gravity,  as  of  others.  Potentially,  it  is 
immutable;  but  actually,  it  can  be  conquered  by  other  laws."  '^ 
This  passage,  severely  criticized,  if  I  remember  rightly,  when 
the  address  was  originally  published,  it  would  be  scarcely  fair 
to  quote  were  it  not  that  Canon  Kingsley  has  repeated  it  at  a 
later  date  in  his  work,  The  Roman  and  the  Teuton.  The 
very  unusual  renderings  of  scientific  ideas  which  it  contains, 
need  here  be  only  enumerated.  Mr.  Kingsley  differs  pro- 
foundly from  philosopliers  and  men  of  science,  in  regarding  a 
law  as  itself  a  power  or  force,  and  so  in  thinking  of  one  law 
as  "  conquered  by  other  laws  ; "  whereas  the  accepted  concep- 
tion of  law  is  that  of  an  established  order,  to  which  the  mani- 
festations of  a  power  or  force  conform.  He  enunciates,  too,  a 
quite-exceptional  view  of  gravitation.  As  conceived  by  as- 
tronomers and  physicists,  gravitation  is  a  universal  and  ever- 
acting /orce,  which  portions  of  matter  exercise  on  one  another 
when  at  sensible  distances ;  and  the  law  of  this  force  is  that  it 
varies  directly  as  the  Tiiass  and  inver.sely  as  the  square  of  the 
distance.     Mr.  Kingsley's  view,  is  that  the  law  of  gravitation 


38  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

is  "defeated"  if  a  stone  is  prevented  from  falling  to  the 
ground — that  the  law  "struggles  "  (not  the  force),  and  that  be- 
cause it  no  longer  produces  motion,  the  "  inevitable  action  of 
the  laws  of  gravity "'  (not  of  gravity)  is  suspended  :  the  truth 
being  that  neither  the  force  nor  its  law  is  in  the  slightest  de- 
gree modified.  Further,  the  theory  of  natural  processes  which 
Mr.  Kingsley  has  arrived  at,  seems  to  be  that  when  two  or 
more  forces  (or  laws,  if  he  prefers  it)  come  into  play,  there  is 
a  partial  or  complete  suspension  of  one  by  another.  Whereas 
the  doctrine  held  by  men  of  science  is,  that  the  forces  are  all 
in  full  operation,  and  the  effect  is  their  resultant ;  so  that,  for 
example,  when  a  shot  is  fired  horizontally  from  a  cannon,  the 
force  impressed  on  it  produces  in  a  given  time  just  the  same 
amount  of  horizontal  motion  as  though  gravity  were  absent, 
while  gravity  produces  in  that  same  time  a  fall  just  equal  to 
that  which  it  would  have  produced  had  the  shot  been  drojiped 
from  the  mouth  of  the  cannon.  Of  com*se,  holding  these  pe- 
.culiar  views  of  causation  as  displayed  among  simple  physical 
phenomena,  Canon  Kingsley  is  consistent  in  denying  histori- 
cal sequence ;  and  in  saying  that  "  as  long  as  man  has  the 
mysterious  jjower  of  breaking  the  laws  of  his  own  being,  such 
a  sequence  not  only  cannot  be  discovpred,  but  it  cannot  exist."  '* 
At  the  same  time  it  is  manifest  that  until  he  comes  to  some 
agreement  with  men  of  science  respecting  conceptions  of 
forces,  of  their  laws,  and  of  the  modes  in  which  phenomena 
produced  by  compositions  of  forces  are  intor]iretable  in  terms 
of  com])ound  laws,  no  discussion  of  the  question  at  issue  can 
be  carried  o7i  with  profit. 

Without  waiting  for  such  an  agreement,  however,  which  is 
probably  somewhat  remote,  Canon  Kingslej^'s  argument  may 
be  met  by  putting  side  by  side  with  it  some  of  his  own  conclu- 
sions set  forth  elsewliere.  In  an  edition  of  Alton  Locke  i)ub- 
li.shed  since  the  delivery  of  the  address  above  quoted  from, 
there  is  a  new  preface  containing,  among  othei's,  the  following 
passages : — 

"The  progress  townrds  institutions  more  .and  more  j)opular  may  he 
slow,  bnt  it  i.s  sure.  Whenever  any  elnss  has  conceived  the  liopo  of 
beinp;  fairly  represented,  it  is  certain  to  fulfd  its  own  hopes,  unless  it 
enijiloys,  or  provokes,  violence  iin|)ossil)l('  in  l<]n{,dMn(l.  'I'lie  tiling 
will  be."     .     .     .     '"if  any  young  gentlemen  look  forward     .... 


IS  THERE  A  SOCIAL  SCIENCE?  39 

to  a  Conservative  reaction  of  any  other  kind  than  this  ....  to 
even  the  least  stoppage  of  what  the  world  calls  progress — which  I 
should  define  as  the  putting  in  practice  the  results  of  inductive  science ; 
— then  do  they,  like  King  Picrochole  in  liabelais,  look  for  a  kingdom 
which  shall  be  restored  to  them  at  the  coming  of  the  Cocqcigrues."  "* 

And  in  a  preface  addressed  to  vporkingmen,  contained  in  an 
earlier  edition,  he  says  : — 

"  If  you  are  better  off  than  you  were  in  1848,  you  owe  it  principally 
to  those  laws  of  political  economy  (as  they  are  called),  which  I  call  the 
brute  natural  accidents  of  supply  and  demand,"  &c.'* 
Which  passages  offer  explanations  of  changes  now  gone  by 
as  having  been  wrought  out  by  natural  forces  in  conformity 
with  natural  laws,  and  also  predictions  of  changes  which 
natural  forces  at  iDresent  in  action  will  work  out.  That  is  to 
say,  by  the  help  of  generalized  experiences  there  is  an  inter- 
pretation of  past  phenomena  and  a  prevision  of  future  phe- 
nomena. There  is  an  implicit  recognition  of  that  Social  Sci- 
ence which  is  explicitly  denied. 

A  reply  to  these  criticisms  may  be  imagined.  In  looking 
for  whatever  reconciliation  is  jiossible  between  these  positions 
wliich  seem  so  incongruous,  we  must  suppose  the  intended 
assertion  to  be,  that  only  general  interpretations  and  previs- 
ions can  be  made,  not  those  which  are  special.  Bearing  in 
mind  Mr.  Froude's  occasional  explanations  of  historical  phe- 
nomena as  naturally  caused,  we  must  conclude  that  he  be- 
lieves certain  classes  of  sociological  facts  (as  the  politico-eco- 
nomical) to  be  scientifically  explicable,  while  other  classes  are 
not :  though,  if  this  be  his  view,  it  is  not  clear  how,  if  the  re- 
sults of  men's  wills,  separate  or  aggregated,  are  incalculable, 
politico-economical  actions  can  be  dealt  with  scientifically; 
since,  equally  with  other  social  actions,  they  are  determined 
by  aggregated  wills.  Similarly,  Canon  Kingsley,  recognizing 
no  less  distinctly  economical  laws,  and  enunciating  also  cer- 
tain laws  of  progress— nay,  even  warning  his  hearers  against 
the  belief  that  he  denies  the  applicability  of  the  inductive 
method  to  social  phenomena,— must  be  assumed  to  think  that 
the  applicability  of  the  inductive  method  is  here  but  partial. 
Citing  the  title  of  his  address  and  some  of  its  sentences,  he 
may  say  they  imply  simply  that  there  are  limits  to  the  expla- 
nation of  social  facts  in  precise  ways;  though  this  position 


40  THE  STCDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

does  not  seem  really  reconcilable  with  the  doctrine  that  social 
laws  are  liable  to  be  at  any  time  overruled,  providentially  or 
otherwise.  But,  merely  liinting  these  collateral  criticisms, 
this  reply  is  to  be  met  by  the  demurrer  that  it  is  beside  the 
question.  If  the  sole  thing  meant  is  that  sociolog-ical  previs- 
ions can  be  approximate  only — if  the  thing  denied  is  the  pos- 
sibility of  reducing  Sociology  to  the  form  of  an  exact  science  ; 
then  the  rejoinder  is  that  the  thing  denied  is  a  thing  which  no 
one  has  affirmed.  Only  a  moiety  of  science  is  exact  science — 
only  phenomena  of  certain  orders  have  had  their  relations 
expressed  quantitatively  as  well  as  qualitatively.  Of  the  re- 
maining orders  there  are  some  produced  by  factors  so  numer- 
ous and  so  hard  to  measure,  that  to  develop  our  knowledge  of 
their  relations  into  the  quantitative  form  will  be  extremely 
difficult,  if  not  impossible.  But  these  orders  of  phenomena 
are  not  therefore  excluded  from  the  conception  of  Science.  In 
Greology,  in  Biology,  iu  Psychology,  most  of  the  previsions  are 
qualitative  only ;  and  where  they  are  quantitative  their  quan- 
titativeness,  never  quite  definite,  is  mostly  very  indefinite. 
Nevertheless  we  unhesitatingly  class  these  previsions  as  scien- 
tific. It  is  thus  with  Sociology.  The  phenomena  it  presents, 
involved  iu  a  higher  degree  than  all  others,  are  less  than  all 
other,  capable  of  precise  ti-eatment :  such  of  them  as  can  be 
generalized,  can  be  generalized  only  within  wide  limits  of 
variation  as  to  time  and  amount ;  and  there  remains  much 
that  cannot  be  generalized.  But  so  far  as  there  can  be  gener- 
alization, and  so  far  as  there  can  be  interpretation  based  on  it, 
so  far  there  can  be  science.  Whoever  expresses  political  opin- 
ions— whoever  asserts  that  such  or  such  public  arrangements 
will  be  beneficial  or  detrimental,  tacitly  expresses  belief  in  a 
Social  Science ;  for  he  assei-ts,  by  implication,  that  there  is  a 
natural  sequence  among  social  actions,  and  that  as  the  sequence 
is  natural  results  may  be  foreseen. 

lleduccd  to  a  more  concrete  form,  the  case  may  be  ]>ut 
thus: — Mr.  Fronde  and  Canon  Kingsley  l)oth  believe  to  a  con- 
siderable extent  in  the  efficiency  of  legislation — proliably  to  a 
greatxM*  extent  than  it  is  believed  in  by  some  of  lliose  who 
assert  tlie  existence  of  a  Social  Sciences  To  Ix'lieve  in  the 
efliciency  of  legislation  is  to  l)elieve  that  certain  ju'ospective 
penalties  or  re\vard.s  will  act  jus  deterrents  or  incentives — will 


IS  TIIEllE  A  SOCIAL  SCIENCE?  41 

modify  individual  conduct,  and  therefore  modify  social  ac- 
tion. Thougli  it  may  be  impossible  to  say  that  a  given  law 
■will  produce  a  foreseen  elfect  on  a  particular  person,  yet  no 
doubt  is  felt  that  it  will  produce  a  foreseen  effect  on  the  mass 
of  persons.  Though  Mr.  Froude,  when  arguing  against  Mr. 
Buckle,  says  that  he  "  would  deliver  himself  from  the  eccen- 
tricities of  this  and  that  individual  by  a  doctrine  of  averages," 
but  that  "  unfortunately,  the  average  of  one  generation  need 
not  be  the  average  of  the  next ; "  ^'et  Mr.  Froude  himself  so 
far  believes  in  the  doctrine  of  averages  as  to  hold  that  legis- 
lative interdicts,  with  threats  of  death  or  imprisonment  be- 
hind them,  will  restrain  the  great  majority  of  men  in  ways 
which  can  be  predicted.  While  he  contends  that  the  results 
of  individual  will  are  incalculable,  yet,  by  approving  certain 
laws  and  condemning  others,  he  tacitly  affirms  that  the  results 
of  the  aggregate  of  wills  are  calculable.  And  if  this  be  as- 
serted of  the  aggregate  of  wills  as  affected  by  legislation,  it 
must  be  asserted  of  the  aggregate  of  wills  as  affected  by  social 
influences  at  large.  If  it  be  held  that  the  desire  to  avoid 
punishment  will  so  act  on  the  average  of  men  as  to  produce  an 
average  foreseen  result ;  then  it  must  also  be  held  that  on  the 
average  of  men,  the  desire  to  get  the  gTcatest  return  for  la- 
bour, the  desire  to  rise  into  a  higher  rank  of  life,  the  desire  to 
gain  applause,  and  so  forth,  will  each  of  them  poduce  a  certain 
average  result.  And  to  hold  this  is  to  hold  that  there  can  be 
prevision  of  social  phenomena,  and  therefore  Social  Science. 

In  brief,  then,  the  alternative  positions  are  these.  On  the 
one  hand,  if  there  is  no  natural  causation  throughout  the  ac- 
tions of  incorporated  humanity,  government  and  legislation 
are  absurd.  Acts  of  Parliament  may,  as  well  as  not,  be  made 
to  depend  on  the  drawing  of  lots  or  the  tossing  of  a  coin  ;  or, 
rather,  there  may  as  well  be  none  at  all :  social  sequences 
having  no  ascertainable  order,  no  effect  can  be  counted  upon 
— everything  is  chaotic.  On  the  other  hand,  if  there  is  natu- 
ral causation,  then  the  combination  of  forces  by  which  every 
combination  of  effects  is  produced,  produces  that  combination 
of  effects  in  conformity  with  the  laws  of  the  forces.  And  if 
so,  it  behoves  us  to  use  all  diligence  in  ascertaining  what  the 
forces  are,  what  are  their  laws,  and  what  are  the  ways  in 
which  they  co-operate. 


42  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

Such  further  ehicidation  as  is  possible  will  be  gained  by 
discussing  the  question  to  which  we  now  address  ovn*selves — 
the  Nature  of  the  Social  Science.  Along  with  a  definite  idea 
of  this,  will  come  a  perception  that  the  denial  of  a  Social  Sci- 
ence has  arisen  from  the  confusing  of  two  essentially-different 
classes  of  phenomena  which  societies  present — the  one  class, 
almost  ignored  by  historians,  constituting  the  subject-matter 
of  Social  Science,  and  the  other  class,  almost  exclusively  occu- 
pying them,  admitting  of  .scientific  co-ordination  in  a  very 
small  degi*ee,  if  at  all. 


CHAPTER  III. 

NATURE   OP  THE   SOCIAL   SCIENCE. 

Out  of  bricks,  well  burnt,  hard,  and  sharp-angled,  lying  in 
heaps  by  his  side,  the  bricklayer  builds,  even  without  mortar, 
a  wall  of  some  height  that  has  considerable  stability.  With 
bricks  made  of  bad  materials,  irregularly  burnt,  warped, 
cracked,  and  many  of  them  broken,  he  cannot  build  a  dry 
wall  of  the  same  height  and  stability.  The  dockyard-labourer, 
piling  cannon-shot,  is  totally  unable  to  make  these  spherical 
masses  stand  at  all  as  the  bricks  stand.  There  are,  indeed, 
certain  definite  shapes  into  which  they  may  be  jjiled — that  of  a 
tetrahedron,  or  that  of  a  pyramid  having  a  square  base,  or  that 
of  an  elongated  wedge  allied  to  the  pyramid.  In  any  of  these 
forms  they  may  be  put  together  symmetrically  and  stably ; 
but  not  in  forms  with  vertical  sides  or  highly-inclined  sides. 
Once  more,  if,  instead  of  equal  si^herical  shot,  the  masses  to  be 
piled  are  boulders,  partially  but  irregularly  rounded,  and  of 
various  sizes,  no  definite  stable  form  is  possible.  A  loose  heap, 
indefinite  in  its  surface  and  angles,  is  all  the  labourer  can 
make  of  them.  Putting  which  several  facts  together,  and  ask- 
ing what  is  the  most  general  truth  they  imply,  we  see  it  to  be 
this — that  the  character  of  the  aggregate  is  determined  by  the 
characters  of  the  unijts. 

""n  we  pass  from  units  of  these  visible,  tangible  kinds,  to  the 
units  contemplated  by  chemists  and  physicists  as  making  up 
masses  of  matter,  the  same  truth  meets  us.  Each  so-called 
element,  each  combination  of  elements,  each  re- combination 
of  the  compounds,  has  a  form  of  crystallization.  Though  its 
crystals  differ  in  their  sizes,  and  are  liable  to  be  modified  by 
truncations  of  angles  and  apices,  as  well  as  by  partial  merg- 
ings  into  one  another,  yet  the  type  of  structure,  as  shown  by 

43 


44  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

cleavage,  is  constant :  particular  kinds  of  molecules  severally 
have  pai'ticular  shapes  into  which  they  settle  themselves  as 
they  aggregate.  And  though  in  some  cases  it  happens  that  a 
substance,  simple  or  compound,  has  two  or  even  more  forms 
of  aggregation,  yet  the  recognized  interpretation  is,  that  these 
different  forms  are  the  forms  assumed  by  molecules  made  dif- 
ferent in  their  structures  by  allotropic  or  isomeric  changes. 
So  constant  is  the  relation  between  the  natiu^e  of  any  mole- 
cules and  tlieir  mode  of  crystallizing,  that,  given  two  kinds  of 
molecules  which  are  known,  from  their  chemical  actions,  to 
be  closely  allied  in  their  natm'es,  and  it  is  inferred  with  cer- 
tainty that  their  crj^stals  will  be  closely  allied.  In  brief,  it 
may  be  unhesitatingly  affirmed,  as  an  outcome  of  physics  and 
chemistry,  that  throughout  all  phenomena  presented  by  dead 
matter,  the  natm*es  of  the  units  necessitate  certain  traits  in  the 
aggregates. 

This  truth  is  again  exemplified  by  aggregates  of  living 
matter.  In  the  substance  of  each  species  of  plant  or  animal, 
there  is  a  proclivity  towards  the  structure  which  tliat  plant  or 
animal  presents — a  proclivity  conclusively  proved  in  cases 
where  the  conditions  to  the  maintenance  of  life  are  sufficient- 
ly simple,  and  whore  the  tissue  has  not  assumed  a  struetm'o 
too  finished  to  permit  re-arrangement.  The  perpetually-cited 
case  of  the  joolypc,  each  part  of  whicli,  when  it  is  cut  into 
several,  presently  puts  on  the  polype-shape,  and  gains  struc- 
tures and  ijowers  like  those  of  the  original  whole,  illustrates 
this  trutli  among  animals.  Among  plants  it  is  well  exempli- 
fied by  the  Begonias.  Here  a  complete  plant  grows  from  a 
fragment  of  a  leaf  stuck  in  the  groimd ;  and,  in  Begonia 
2i}n/JJ(>maninca,  complete  plants  grow  even  out  of  scales  that 
fall  from  the  leaves  and  the  stem — a  fact  sliowing,  like  the 
fact  whicli  tlie  polype  furnislies,  that  the  units  everywhere 
present,  have  for  llicir  ty])e  of  aggregation  the  type  of  the 
organism  they  belong  to  ;  and  r(Mnindin<^  us  of  the  imiversal 
fact  that  the  niiils  composing  every  germ,  animal  or  vegetal, 
liavc  a  proclivity  towards  the  ijarental  tyi!<>  of  aggregation. 

Thus,  given  the  natures  of  the  units,  and  the  nature  of  the 
aggregate  tln-y  foi-ni  is  itiv^-determiiird.  1  say  the  nature, 
meaning,  of  coarse,  the  (sscntial  traits,  and  not  incdudiiig  the 
incidental.     By  the  chai'acters  of   the  units  arc  necessitated 


NATURE   OF  THE   SOCIAL  SCIENCE.  45 

certain  limits  within  which  the  characters  of  the  a;2:gTegate 
must  fall.  The  circumstances  attending-  aggregation  greatly 
modify  the  results ;  but  the  truth  here  to  be  recognized  is, 
that  these  circumstances,  in  some  cases  perhaps  preventing 
aggregation  altogether,  in  other  cases  imiicding  it,  in  other 
cases  facilitating  it  more  or  less,  can  never  give  to  the  aggre- 
gate, characters  that  do  not  consist  with  the  characters  of  the 
units.  No  favouring  conditions  will  give  the  labourer  i^ower 
to  pile  cannon-shot  into  a  vertical  wall ;  no  favouring  con- 
ditions will  make  it  possible  for  common  salt,  which  crys- 
tallizes on  the  regular  system,  to  crystallize,  like  sulphate  of 
soda,  on  the  oblique  prismatic  system ;  no  favouring  con- 
ditions will  enable  the  fragment  of  a  polype  to  take  on  the 
structure  of  a  mollusk. 

Among  such  social  aggregates  as  inferior  creatures  fall 
into,  more  or  less  definitely,  the  same  truth  holds.  Whether 
they  live  in  a  mere  assemblage,  or  whether  they  live  in 
something  like  an  organized  union  with  division  of  labour 
among  its  members,  as  ha^jpens  in  many  cases,  is  unquestion- 
ably determined  by  the  pi-operties  of  the  units.  Given  the 
sti'uctiirc^s  and  consequent  instincts  of  tlie  individuals  as  we 
find  them,  and  the  community  they  form  will  inevitably 
present  certain  traits ;  and  no  community  having  such  traits 
can  be  formed  out  of  individuals  having  other  structures 
and  instincts. 

Those  who  have  been  brought  up  in  the  belief  that  there  is 
one  law  for  the  rest  of  the  Universe  and  auotlier  laAv  for  man- 
kind, will  dovibtless  be  astonished  by  the  proposal  to  include 
aggregates  of  men  in  this  generalization.  And  yet  that  the 
properties  of  the  units  determine  the  properties  of  the  whole 
they  make  up,  evidently  holds  of  societies  as  of  other  things. 
A  general  survey  of  tribes  and  nations,  past  and  present, 
shows  clearly  enough  that  it  is  so  ;  and  a  brief  considera- 
tion of  the  conditions  shows,  with  no  less  clearness,  that  it 
must  be  so. 

Ignoring  for  the  moment  the  special  traits  of  races  and  in- 
dividuals, observe  the  traits  common  to  members  of  the  spe- 
cies at  large ;  and  consider  how  these  must  affect  their  rela- 
tions when  associated. 


46  THE   STUDY   OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

They  have  all  needs  for  food,  and  have  corresponding 
desires.  To  all  of  them  exertion  is  a  physiological  expense ; 
must  bring  a  certain  return  of  nutriment,  if  it  is  not  to  be 
detrimental ;  and  is  accompanied  by  repugnance  when  pushed 
to  excess,  or  even  before  reaching  it.  They  are  all  of  them 
liable  to  bodily  injury,  without  accompanying  pain,  from  va- 
rious extreme  physical  actions ;  and  they  are  liable  to  emo- 
tional pains,  of  positive  and  negative  kinds,  from  one  an- 
other's actions.  As  says  Shylock,  insisting  on  that  human 
nature  which  Jews  have  in  common  with  Christians — 

"  Hath  not  a  Jew  eyes  ?  hath  not  a  Jew  hands,  organs,  dimensions, 
senses,  affections,  passions  ?  fed  with  the  same  food,  hurt  with  the 
same  weapons,  subject  to  the  same  diseases,  healed  by  the  same  means, 
warmed  and  cooled  by  the  same  winter  and  summer,  as  a  Christian  is  ? 
If  you  prick  us,  do  we  not  bleed  ?  if  you  ticlde  us,  do  we  not  laugh  ? 
if  you  poison  us,  do  we  not  die  ?  and  if  you  wrong  us,  shall  we  not 
revenge  ?     If  we  are  like  you  in  the  rest,  we  will  resemble  you  in  that." 

Conspicuous,  however,  as  is  this  possession  of  certain  fun- 
damental qualities  by  all  individuals,  there  is  no  adequate 
recognition  of  the  truth  that  from  these  individual  qualities 
must  result  certain  qualities  in  an  assemblage  of  individuals  ; 
that  in  propoi'tion  as  the  individuals  forming  one  assemblage 
are  like  in  their  qualities  to  the  individuals  forming  another 
lESsemblage,  the  two  assemblages  will  have  likenesses ;  and 
that  the  asseml)lagcs  will  differ  in  their  characters  in  propor- 
tion as  the  component  individuals  of  the  one  differ  from  tliose 
of  the  other.  Yet  when  this,  which  is  almost  a  truism,  lias 
been  admitted,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  in  every  community 
there  is  a  grouj)  of  idicnoniena  growing  naturally  out  of  tlie 
phenomena  ])resented  by  its  members — a  sot  of  ])roperties  in 
the  aggregate  determined  by  the  sets  of  properties  in  the 
units  ;  and  that  the  relations  of  tlic  two  sets  form  the  subject- 
matter  of  a  science.  It  needs  but  to  ask  Avliat  would  hai)])(Mi 
if  men  avoided  one  an()<h<>r,  as  various  infcM-ior  cr(>Mlures  do, 
to  see  tliat  the  very  jxissibilily  of  a  society  d('])(Mids  on  a  cer- 
tiiin  cinot idii.il  |)ro])erty  in  tbe  indivi(lii;il.  It  needs  l)ut  to 
a.sk  what  would  liappen  if  each  man  liked  best  the  men  who 
gave  him  most  ])ain.  to  perceive  tliat  social  relations,  sn]»|)o.s- 
ing  ttiem  to  b(;  jxjssible,  wouhl  bt^  utterly  unlike  the  social 
relations  resulting  from  the  greater  liking  which  men  indi- 


NATURE  OP  THE  SOCIAL  SCIENCE.  47 

vidually  have  for  others  who  give  them  pleasure.  It  needs 
but  to  ask  what  would  happen  if,  instead  of  ordinarily  prefer- 
ring the  easiest  ways  of  achieving  their  ends,  men  preferred 
to  achieve  their  ends  in  the  most  troublesome  ways,  to  infer 
that  then,  a  society,  if  one  could  exist,  would  be  a  widely-dif- 
ferent society  from  any  we  know.  And  if,  as  these  extreme 
cases  show  us,  cardinal  traits  in  societies  are  determined  by 
cardinal  traits  in  men,  it  cannot  be  questioned  that  less-marked 
traits  in  societies  are  determined  by  less-marked  traits  in  men ;  j 
and  that  there  must  everywhere  be  a  consensus  between  the 
special  structures  and  actions  of  the  one  and  the  special  struc- 
tures and  actions  of  the  other. 

Setting  out,  then,  with  this  general  principle,  that  the 
properties  of  the  units  determine  the  properties  of  the  aggre- 
gate, we  conclude  that  there  must  be  a  Social  Science  express- 
ing the  relations  between  the  two,  with  as  much  definiteness 
as  the  natures  of  the  lihenomena  i)erniit.  Beginning  with 
types  of  men  who  form  but  small  and  incoherent  social  ag- 
gregates, such  a  science  has  to  show  in  what  ways  the  indi- 
vidual qualities,  intellectual  and  emotional,  negative  further 
aggi'egation.  It  lias  to  explain  how  slight  modifications  of 
individual  nature,  arising  under  modified  conditions  of  life, 
make  somewhat  larger  aggregates  possible.  It  has  to  trace 
out,  in  aggregates  of  some  size,  the  genesis  of  the  social  rela- 
tions, regulative  and  operative,  into  which  the  members  fall. 
It  has  to  exhibit  the  stronger  and  more  prolonged  social  influ- 
ences which,  by  further  modifying  the  characters  of  the  units, 
facilitate  further  aggregation  with  consequent  further  com- 
plexity of  social  structure.  Among  societies  of  all  orders  and 
sizes,  from  the  smallest  and  rudest  up  to  the  largest  and  most 
civilized,  it  has  to  ascertain  what  traits  there  are  in  common, 
determined  by  the  common  traits  of  human  beings  ;  what 
less-general  traits,  distinguishing  certain  groups  of  societies, 
result  from  traits  distinguishing  certain  races  of  men  ;  and 
what  peculiarities  in  each  society  are  traceable  to  the  pecul- 
iarities of  its  membei's.  In  every  case  it  has  for  its  subject- 
matter  the  growth,  development,  structure,  and  functions  of 
the  social  aggregate,  as  brought  about  by  the  mutual  actions 
of  individuals  whose  natures  ai-e  partly  like  those  of  all  men, 

partly  like  tbose  of  kindred  races,  partly  distinctive. 
5 


y 


48  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

These  phenomena  of  social  evolution  have,  of  course,  to  be 
explained  with  due  reference  to  the  conditions  each  society  is 
exposed  to — the  conditions  fui^nished  by  its  locality  and  by  its 
relations  to  neighboui-ing  societies.  Noting  this  merely  to 
prevent  possible  misapprehensions,  the  fact  which  here  con- 
cerns us,  is,  not  that  the  Social  Science  exhibits  these  or  those 
special  truths,  but  that,  given  men  having  certain  properties, 
and  an  aggi'egate  of  such  men  must  have  certain  derivative 
properties  which  form  the  subject-matter  of  a  science. 

"  But  were  we  not  told  some  pages  back,  that  in  societies, 
causes  and  effects  are  related  in  ways  so  involved  that  previs- 
ion is  often  impossible  ?  Were  we  not  warned  against  rashly 
taking  measm'es  for  acliieving  this  or  that  desideratum,  re- 
gardless of  the  proofs,  so  abundantly  sup])lied  by  the  past, 
that  agencies  set  in  action  habitually  work  out  results  never 
foreseen  ?  And  were  not  instances  given  of  all-important 
changes  that  were  due  to  influences  from  which  no  one  would 
have  anticipated  them  ?  If  so,  how  can  there  be  a  Social  Sci- 
ence ?  If  Louis  Napoleon  could  not  have  expected  that  the 
war  he  began  to  prevent  the  consolidation  of  Germany,  would 
be  the  very  means  of  consolidating  it ;  if  to  M.  Thiers,  five- 
and-twenty  years  ago,  it  would  have  seemed  a  dream  exceed- 
ing all  ordinary  dreanis  in  absurdity,  that  he  would  be  fired  at 
from  his  own  fortifications ;  how  in  the  name  of  wonder  is  it 
possible  to  formulate  social  phenomena  in  anything  approach- 
ing scientific  order  ? " 

The  difficulty  thus  put  in  as  strong  a  form  as  I  can  find  for 
it,  is  that  which,  clearly  or  vaguely,  rises  in  the  minds  of  most 
to  wliom  Sociology  is  proposed  as  a  subject  to  be  studird  after 
scientific  methods,  with  the  expectation  of  reaching  results 
having  scientific  certainty.  Before  giving  to  the  question  its 
special  answer,  let  me  give  it  a  general  answer. 

The  science  of  Mechanics  has  reached  a  development  higher 
than  has  been  reached  by  any  but  the  purely-abstract  sciences. 
:'  Though  we  may  not  call  it  perfect,  yet  the  great  accuracy  of 
the  i)nMlictions  which  its  a.sccrtained  principles  enable  astron- 
onwrsto  make,  shows  how  near  to  perfection  it  has  come;  and 
tlic  a<hievenieiits  of  the  skiiriil  artillery -ollicer  prove  that  in 
tlicir  :i])i)lications  to  terrestrial  motions  these  principles  yield 


NATURE   OF   THE  SOCIAL  SCIENCE.  49 

previsions  of  considerable  exactness.  But  now,  taking  Me- 
chanics as  the  type  of  a  highly-developed  science,  let  us  note 
\vhat  it  enables  us  to  predict,  and  what  it  does  not  enable 
us  to  j)redict,  respecting  some  concrete  phenomenon.  Say 
t'lat  there  is  a  mine  to  be  exploded.  Ask  what  will  hap- 
pen to  the  fragments  of  matter  sent  into  the  air.  Then 
observe  how  much  we  can  infer  from  established  dynamical 
laws.  By  that  common  observation  which  precedes  the  more 
exact  observations  of  science,  we  are  taught  that  all  the  frag- 
ments, having  risen  to  heights  more  or  less  various,  will  fall ; 
that  they  will  reach  the  ground  at  scattered  places  within  a 
circumscribed  area,  and  at  somewhat  different  times.  Science 
enables  us  to  say  more  than  this.  From  those  same  principles 
whence  are  inferable  the  path  of  a  planet  or  a  projectile,  it  de- 
duces the  truth  that  each  fragment  will  describe  a  curve  ;  that 
all  the  curves,  though  individually  different,  will  be  si^ecifi- 
cally  alike  ;  that  (ignoring  deviations  caused  by  atmospheric 
resistance)  they  will  severally  be  i)ortions  of  ellipses  so  eccen- 
tric as  to  be  indistinguishable  from  parabolas — such  parts  of 
them,  at  least,  as  are  described  after  the  rush  of  gases  ceases 
further  to  accelerate  the  fragments.  But  while  the  j)rinciples 
of  Mechanics  help  us  to  tliese  certainties,  we  cannot  learn 
from  them  anything  more  definite  respecting  the  courses  that 
will  be  taken  by  particular  fragments.  Whether,  of  the  mass 
overlying  the  powder  to  be  exploded,  the  i^art  on  the  left  will 
be  pi'oi^elled  upwards  in  one  fragment  or  several  ?  whether 
this  i^iece  will  be  shot  higher  than  that  ?  whether  any,  and  if 
so,  which,  of  the  projected  masses  v/ill  be  stopped  in  their 
courses  by  adjacent  objects  they  strike  ? — are  questions  it  can- 
not answer.  Not  that  there  icill  he  any  uxtnt  of  confonnity 
to  laiv  in  these  results ;  but  that  the  data  on  which  predic- 
tions of  them  are  to  be  based,  cannot  be  obtained. 

Observe,  then,  that  respecting  a  concrete  phenomenon  of 
some  complexity,  the  most  exact  science  enables  us  to  make 
predictions_tliat  are  mainly  general,  or  only  partially  special. 
Seeing  that  this  is  so,  even  wliei-e^tlie  causes  and  effects  arc 
not  greatly  involved,  and  where  the  science  of  them  is  well 
developed,  much  more  may  we  expect  it  to  be  so  among  the 
most  involved  causes  and  effects,  the  science  of  which  is  but 
rudimentary.     This  contrast  between  the  generalities  that  ad- 


50  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

mit  of  prevision  and  the  specialties  that  do  not  adoiit  of  pre- 
vision, will  be  still  more  clearly  seen  on  passing  from  this 
preliminary  illustration  to  an  illustration  in  which  the  anal- 
ogy, is  closer. 

What  can  we  say  about  the  future  of  this  newly-born  child  ? 
Will  it  die  of  some  disorder  during  infaticy  ?  Will  it  survive 
awhile,  and  be  carried  off  by  scarlet  fever  or  whooping-cough  ? 
Will  it  have  measles  or  small-pox,  and  succumb  to  one  or  the 
other  ?  None  of  these  questions  can  be  answered.  Will  it 
some  day  fall  down-stairs,  or  be  run  over,  or  set  fii*e  to  its 
clothes ;  and  be  killed  or  maimed  by  one  or  other  of  these  ac- 
cidents ?  These  questions  also  have  no  answers.  None  can 
tell  whether  in  boyhood  there  may  come  epilepsy,  or  St. 
Yitus's  dance,  or  other  formidable  affection.  Looking  at  the 
child  now  in  the  niu'se's  ai'ms,  none  can  foresee  with  certainty 
that  it  will  be  stupid  or  intelligent,  tractable  or  pei-verse. 
Equally  beyond  possibility  of  prediction  are  those  events 
which,  if  it  survives,  will  occur  to  it  in  maturity — partly 
caused  by  its  own  nature,  and  partly  by  suri'ounding  condi- 
tions. Wliethcr  there  will  come  the  success  due  to  skill  and 
perseverance;  whether  the  circumstances  will  be  such  as  to 
give  these  scope  or  not ;  whether  accidents  will  thwart  or 
favour  efforts ;  are  wholly-unanswerable  inquiries.  That  is  to 
say,  the  facts  we  ordinarily  class  as  biogi-aphical,  do  not  ad- 
mit of  prevision. 

If  from  quite  special  facts  we  turn  to  facts  somewhat  less 
special  which  the  life  of  this  infant  will  presei^t,  we  find, 
among  those  that  are  gitasZ-biographical.  a  certain  degree  of 
previ.sion  ])ossible.  Thougli  the  unfolding  of  the  faculties  is 
variable  witliin  limits,  going  on  here  juvcociously  and  there 
with  unusual  slowness,  yet  there  is  sucli  order  in  the  unfold- 
ing as  enables  us  to  say  that  the  child  will  not  be  a  mathema- 
tician or  a  dramatist  at  tlu'cc  years  old.  will  not  be  a  p.sycholo- 
gi.st  by  tlie  time  he  is  ton,  will  not  reach  exfcMided  i)olitical 
concei)ti()ns  while  his  voice  is  .still  uiihrokcn.  ^Moreover,  of 
the  emotional  nature  we  may  make  cer(;iin  predictions  of  a 
kindred  order.  Wliethcr  Ik^  will  marry  or  not,  no  one  can 
say;  but  it  is  ])(>ssilil»>  to  say,  if  not  with  certainty  still  with 
much  probability,  that  after  u  certain  age  an  inclination  to 


NATURE  OF  THE  SOCIAL  SCIENCE.  51 

marry  will  arise ;  and  though  none  can  tell  whether  he  will 
have  childi'en,  yet  that,  if  he  has,  some  amount  of  the  paternal 
feeling  will  be  manifested,  may  be  concluded  as  very  likely. 

But  now  if,  looking  at  the  entire  assemblage  of  facts  that 
will  be  presented  during  the  life  of  this  infant  as  it  becomes 
mature,  decays  and  dies,  we  pass  over  the  biographical  and 
g?tasi-biographical,  as  admitting  of  either  no  prevision  or  but 
imperfect  prevision ;  we  find  remaining  classes  of  facts  that 
may  be  asserted  beforeliand :  some  with  a  high  degree  of  'i 
probability,  and  some  with  certainty — some  with  great  defi- 
niteness  and  some  within  moderate  limits  of  variation.  I  re- 
fer to  the  facts  of  growth,  development,  structure,  and  func- 
tion. 

Along  with  that  love  of  personalities  which  exalts  every- 
thing inconstant  in  human  life  into  a  matter  of  interest,  there 
goes  the  habit  of  reg-arding  whatever  is  constant  in  human 
life  as  a  matter  of  no  interest ;  and  so,  when  contemplating 
the  future  of  the  infant,  there  is  a  tacit  ignoring  of  all  the 
vital  phenomena  it  will  exhibit — phenomena  that  are  alike 
knowable  and  imijortant  to  be  kno^\^l.  The  anatomy  and 
physiology  of  Man,  comprehending  under  these  names  not 
only  the  structures  and  functions  of  the  adult,  but  the  i^ro- 
gressive  establishment  of  these  structures  and  functions  dur- 
ing individual  evolution,  form  the  subject-matter  of  what 
every  one  recognizes  as  a  science.  Though  there  is  imperfect 
exactness  in  the  generalized  coexistences  and  sequences  mak- 
ing up  this  science ;  though  general  truths  respecting  struc- 
tures are  met  by  occasional  exceptions  in  the  way  of  malfor- 
mations ;  though  anomalies  of  function  also  occur  to  negative 
absolute  prediction  ;  though  there  are  considerable  variations 
of  the  limits  within  which  growth  and  structure  may  range, 
and  considerable  differences  between  the  rates  of  functions 
and  between  the  times  at  which  functions  are  established ;  yet 
no  one  doubts  that  the  biological  phenomena  presented  by  the 
human  body,  may  be  organized  into  a  knowledge  having  the 
definiteness  which  constitutes  it  scientific,  in  the  understood 
sense  of  that  word. 

If,  now,  any  one,  insisting  on  the  incalculableness  of  a 
child's  future,  biographically  considered,  asserted  that  the 
child,  therefore,  presented  no  subject-matter  for  science,  ignor- 


y/ 


52  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

ing  altogether  what  we  will  for  the  moment  call  its  anthro- 
pology (though  the  meaning  now  given  to  the  word  scarcely 
permits  this  use  of  it),  he  would  fall  into  a  conspicuous  error 
— an  eri'or  in  this  case  made  consi^icuous  because  we  ai'e  able 
daily  to  observe  the  difference  between  an  account  of  the 
living  body,  and  an  account  of  its  conduct  and  the  events 
that  occur  to  it. 

The  reader  doubtless  anticipates  the  analogy.  What  Biog- 
raphj'  is  to  Anthropology,  History  is  to  Sociology — History,  I 
mean,  as  commonly  conceived.  Tlie  kind  of  relation  which 
the  sayings  and  doings  that  make  up  the  ordinary  account  of 
a  man's  life,  bear  to  an  account  of  his  bodily  and  mental  evo- 
lution, structui'al  and  functional,  is  like  the  kind  of  relation 
borne  by  that  nai'rative  of  a  nation's  actions  and  fortunes  its 
historian  gives  us,  to  a  description  of  its  institutions,  regula- 
tive and  operative,  and  the  ways  in  which  their  structures  and 
functions  have  gradually  established  themselves.  And  if  it  is 
an  error  to  say  that  there  is  no  Science  of  Man,  because  the 
events  of  a  man's  life  cannot  be  foreseen,  it  is  equally  an  error 
to  say  that  there  is  no  Science  of  Society,  because  there  can  be 
no  prevision  of  the  occurrences  which  make  up  ordinary 
history. 

Of  course,  I  do  not  say  that  the  parallel  between  an  indi- 
vidual organism  and  a  social  organism  is  so  close,  that  the 
distinction  to  be  clearly  drawn  in  the  one  case  may  be  drawn 
with  like  clearness  in  the  other.  The  structures  and  func- 
tions of  the  social  organism  are  obviously  far  less  specific,  far 
more  modifiable,  far  more  dependent  on  conditions  that  are 
variable  and  never  twice  alike.  All  I  mean  is  that,  as  in  tlie 
one  case  so  in  the  other,  there  lie  underneath  the  plienomoua 
of  conduct,  not  forming  subject-matter  for  science,  certain 
vital  phenomena,  wliicli  do  form  subject-matter  for  science. 
Just  as  in  tlie  man  tli«>re  are  structures  and  functions  wliich 
make  possible  the  doings  his  biographer  tells  of,  so  in  the  na- 
ti»m  tliero  are  structures  and  functions  which  make  possible 
the  doings  its  liistoi-ian  tells  of;  niid  in  both  cases  it  is  witli 
ilu'Hv  structures  and  functions,  iji  their  origin,  development, 
and  decline,  that  science  is  i'onccrned. 

To  make  better  the   ])arallel,  and  further  to  explain  the 


NATURE  OF  TUE  SOCIAL  SCIENCE.  53 

nature  of  the  Social  Science,  we  must  say  that  the  morphology 
and  physiology  of  Society,  instead  of  corresponding  to  the 
inorphology  and  physiology  of  Man,  correspond  rather  to 
morphology  and  physiology  in  general.  Social  organisms, 
like  individual  organisms,  are  to  be  arranged  into  classes  and 
sub-classes — not,  indeed,  into  classes  and  sub-classes  having 
anything  like  the  same  dehniteness  or  the  same  constancy, 
but  nevertheless  having  likenesses  and  differences  which  jus- 
tify the  putting  of  them  into  major  groups  most-markedly 
contrasted,  and,  within  these,  arranging  them  in  minor  groups 
less-mar kedly  contrasted.  And  just  as  Biology  discovers  cer- 
tain general  traits  of  development,  structure,  and  function, 
holding  throughout  all  organisms,  others  holding  throughout 
certain  great  groups,  others  throughout  certain  sub-groups 
these  contain ;  so  Sociology  has  to  recognize  truths  of  social 
develoj)ment,  structure,  and  function,  that  are  some  of  them 
universal,  some  of  them  general,  some  of  them  special. 

For,  recalling  the  conclusion  previously  reached,  it  is 
manifest  that  in  so  far  as  human  beings,  considered  as  social 
units,  have  properties  in  common,  the  social  aggregates  they 
form  will  have  properties  in  common  ;  that  likenesses  of  nature 
holding  throughout  certain  of  the  human  races,  will  originate 
likenesses  of  natiu^e  in  the  nations  arising  out  of  them ;  and 
that  such  peculiar  traits  as  are  possessed  by  the  highest  varieties 
of  men,  must  result  in  distinctive  characters  possessed  in  com- 
mon by  the  communities  into  which  they  organize  themselves. 

So  that  whether  we  look  at  the  matter  in  the  absti'act  or  in 
the  concrete,  we  reach  the  same  conclusion.  We  need  but  to 
glance,  on  the  one  hand,  at  the  varieties  of  uncivilized  men 
and  the  structures  of  their  tribes,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  at 
the  varieties  of  civilized  men  and  the  structures  of  their  na- 
tions, to  see  inference  verified  by  fact.  And  thus  recognizing, 
both  d  priori  and  a  posteriori,  these  relations  between  the 
phenomena  of  individual  human  nature  and  the  phenomena 
of  incorporated  human  nature,  we  cannot  fail  to  see  that  the 
phenomena  of  incorporated  human  nature  form  the  subject- 
matter  of  a  science. 

And  now  to  make  more  definite  the  conception  of  a  Social 
Science  thus  shadowed  forth  in  a  general  way,  let  me  set  down 


6)u 


54  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

a  few  truths  of  the  kind  indicated.  Some  that  I  propose  to 
name  are  very  familiar ;  and  others  I  add,  not  because  of  their 
interest  or  importance,  but  because  they  are  easy  of  exposi- 
tion. The  aim  is  simply  to  convey  a  clear  idea  of  the  natm-e 
of  sociological  truths. 

Take,  first,  the  general  fact  that  along  vrith  social  aggi*ega- 
tion  there  always  goes  some  kind  of  organization..  In  tlio 
very  lowest  stages,  where  the  assemblages  are  very  small  and 
very  incoherent,  there  is  no  established  subordination — no 
centre  of  control.  Chieftainsliips  of  settled  kinds  come  only 
along  with  larger  and  more  coherent  aggregates.  The  evolu- 
tion of  a  governmental  structure  having  some  strength  and 
permanence,  is  the  condition  under  which  alone  any  con- 
siderable growth  of  a  society  can  take  place.  A  dilferentiation 
of  the  originally-homogeneous  mass  of  units  into  a  co-ordinat- 
ing part  and  a  co-ordinated  pai't,  is  the  indispensable  initial 
step. 

Along  with  evolution  of  societies  in  size  there  goes  evolu- 
tion of  their  co-ordinating  centres ;  which,  having  become 
permanent,  presently  become  more  or  less  complex.  In  small 
tribes,  chieftainship,  generally  wanting  in  stability,  is  quite 
simple ;  but  as  tribes  become  larger  by  growlli,  or  by  reduc- 
tion of  other  tribes  to  subjection,  the  co-ordinating  apparatus 
begins  to  develop  by  the  addition  of  subordinate  governing 


agencies. 


Simple  and  familiar  as  are  these  facts,  we  are  not.  therefore, 
to  overlook  their  significance.  That  men  rise  into  the  state  of 
social  aggregation  only  on  condition  that  they  lapse  into  rela- 
tions of  inequality  in  respect  of  power,  and  ai*e  made  to  co- 
operate as  a  whole  only  by  the  agency  of  a  structure  securing 
obedience,  is  none  the  loss  a  fact  in  science  because  it  is  a  trite 
fact.  Tliis  is  a  primary  common  trait  in  social  aggregates  de- 
rived from  a  common  trait  in  their  uniLs.  It  is  a  trulb  in 
Sociology,  comparable  to  the  biological  ti'utli  that  the  first 
stop  in  the  i)rodu('fion  of  any  living  organism,  high  or  low, 
is  a  certain  dillcrcntiation  wlicreby  a  ])crij)lu'ral  portion  be- 
comes distinguished  from  a  central  portion.  And  such  excep- 
tions to  this  biological  tnitli  as  we  liiul  in  flioso  minute 
non-nncl<';itc(l  ]iortions  of  |)ro(()p|;isni  that  are  the  very  lowest 
living  things,  are   i)arall('l('d  by  those  exce])tions  to  the  so- 


NATURE  OP  THE  SOCIAL  SCIENCE.  55 

ciological  truth,  seen  in  the  small  incoherent  assemblages 
formed  by  the  very  lowest  types  of  men. 

The  differentiation  of  the  regulating  part  and  the  reg-ulated 
part,  is,  in  small  primitive  societies,  not  only  imi)erfectly  estab- 
lished but  vague.  The  chief  does  not  at  first  become  unlike 
his  fellow-savages  in  his  functions,  otherwise  than  by  exercis- 
ing greater  sway.  He  hunts,  makes  his  weapons,  works,  and 
manages  his  private  affairs,  in  just  the  same  ways  as  the  rest ; 
while  in  war  he  differs  from  other  warriors  only  by  his  pre- 
dominant influence,  not  by  ceasing  to  be  a  private  soldier. 
And  along  with  this  slight  separation  from  the  rest  of  the 
tribe  in  military  functions  and  industrial  functions,  there  is 
only  a  slight  separation  politically  :  judicial  action  is  but  very 
feebly  i*epresented  by  exercise  of  his  personal  authority  in 
keeping  order. 

At  a  higher  stage,  the  power  of  the  chief  being  well  estab- 
lished, he  no  longer  supports  himself.  Still  he  remains  un- 
distinguished industrially  from  other  members  of  the  domi- 
nant class,  which  has  grown  up  while  chieftainship  has  been 
getting  settled ;  for  he  simply  gets  productive  work  done  by 
deputy,  as  they  do.  Nor  is  a  further  extension  of  his  power 
accompanied  by  complete  separation  of  the  political  from  the 
industrial  functions  ;  for  he  habitually  remains  a  regulator  of 
production,  and  in  many  cases  a  regulator  of  trade,  presiding 
over  acts  of  exchange.  Of  his  several  controlling  activities, 
this  last  is,  however,  the  one  which  he  first  ceases  personally 
to  carry  on.  Industry  early  shows  a  tendency  towards  self- 
control,  apart  from  the  control  which  the  chief  exercises  more 
and  more  as  political  and  military  head.  The  primary  social 
differentiation  which  we  have  noted  between  the  regulative 
part  and  the  operative  part,  is  presently  followed  by  a  distinc- 
tion, which  eventually  becomes  very  marked,  between  the 
internal  arrangements  of  the  two  parts  :  the  operative  jiart 
slowly  developing  within  itself  agencies  by  which  processes 
of  production,  distribution,  and  exchange  are  co-ordinated, 
while  co-ordination  of  the  non-operative  part  continues  on  its 
original  footing. 

Along  with  a  development  which  renders  conspicuous  the 
separation  of  the  operative  and  regulative  structures,  there 
goes  a  development  within  the  regulative  structures  them- 


56  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

selves.  The  chief,  at  fii-st  uniting  the  characters  of  king, 
judge,  captain,  and  often  priest,  has  his  functions  more  and 
more  specialized  as  the  evolution  of  the  society  in  size  and 
complexity  advances.  Though  remaining  supreme  judge,  he 
does  most  of  his  judging  by  deputy  ;  though  remaining  nomi- 
nally head  of  his  army,  the  actual  leading  of  it  falls  more  and 
more  into  the  hands  of  subordinate  officers ;  though  still 
retaining  ecclesiastical  supremacy,  his  priestly  functions 
practically  almost  cease ;  though  in  theory  the  maker  and 
administrator  of  the  law,  the  actual  making  and  administra- 
tion lapse  more  and  more  into  other  hands.  So  that,  stating 
the  facts  broadly,  out  of  the  original  co-ordinating  agent 
having  undivided  functions,  there  eventually  develop  several 
co-ordinating  agencies  which  divide  these  functions  among 
them. 

Each  of  these  agencies,  too,  follows  the  same  law.  Origi- 
nally simple,  it  step  by  step  subdivides  into  many  parts,  and 
becomes  an  organization,  administrative,  judicial,  ecclesiasti- 
cal, or  military,  having  graduated  classes  within  itself,  and  a 
more  or  less  distinct  form  of  government  within  itself. 

I  will  not  comj)licate  this  statement  by  doing  more  than 
recognizing  the  variations  that  occur  in  cases  where  suj^reme 
power  does  not  lapse  into  the  hands  of  one  man  (wliich, 
however,  in  early  stages  of  social  evolution  is  an  unstable 
modification).  And  I  must  explain  that  the  above  general 
statements  are  to  be  taken  with  the  qualification  that  diirer- 
ences  of  detail  are  passed  over  to  gain  brevity  and  clearness. 
Add  to  which  that  it  is  beside  the  purpose  of  the  argument 
to  carry  the  description  beyond  these  fir.st  stages.  But  duly 
bearing  in  mind  that  Avithout  here  elaborating  a  Science  of 
Sociology,  nothing  more  than  a  rude  outline  of  cardinal  facts 
can  be  given,  enough  lias  been  said  lo  show  that  in  the  de- 
velopment of  social  .structures,  tIiri-<>  ni:iy  Ix'  recognized  cer- 
tain inost-genci.il  f:i(ts,  ccrt.iin  Icss-gencral  facts,  and  certain 
facts  successively  luon^  spcci.'il  ;  just  as  Ibore  may  be  recog- 
nized g(Mieral  and  s])ecial  facts  of  evolution  in  individual 
organisms. 

To  extend,  as  well  as  lo  iii.ike  clearer,  lliis  concejjtion  of 
tho  Social  Science,  let  iiir  ]le^^  set  down  a  (]uesliou  wliicli 
comes  within  its  sphere.     What  is  the  I'clation  in  a  society 


NATURE   OP  THE  SOCIAL  SCIENCE.  57 

between  structure  and  growth  ?  Up  to  what  point  is  structure 
necessary  to  growth  ?  after  what  point  does  it  retard  growth  ? 
at  what  point  does  it  arrest  growth  ? 

There  exists  in  the  individual  organism  a  duplex  relation 
between  growth  and  structure  which  it  is  difficult  adequately 
to  express.  Excluding  the  cases  of  a  few  low  organisms  liv- 
ing under  special  conditions,  we  may  properly  say  that  great 
growth  is  not  possible  Avithout  high  structure.  The  whole 
animal  kingdom,  throughout  its  invertebrate  and  vertebrate 
types,  may  be  cited  in  evidence.  On  the  other  hand,  among 
the  superior  organisms,  and  especially  among  those  leading 
active  lives,  there  is  a  marked  tendency  for  completion  of 
structure  to  go  along  with  arrest  of  growth.  While  an  ani- 
mal of  elevated  type  is  growing  rapidly,  its  organs  continue 
imperfectly  developed — the  bones  remain  partially  cartilagi- 
nous, the  muscles  are  soft,  the  brain  lacks  definiteness ;  and 
the  details  of  structure  throughout  all  parts  are  finished  only 
after  growth  has  ceased.  Why  these  relations  are  as  we  find 
them,  it  is  not  difficult  to  see.  That  a  young  animal  may 
grow,  it  must  digest,  cii-culate  blood,  breathe,  excrete  waste 
products,  and  so  fox'th ;  to  do  which  it  must  have  tolerably- 
comj)lete  viscera,  vascular  system,  &c.  That  it  may  eventually 
become  able  to  get  its  own  food,  it  has  to  develop  gradually 
the  needful  appliances  and  aj)titudes ;  to  which  end  it  must  be- 
gin with  limbs,  and  senses,  and  nervous  system,  that  have 
considerable  degrees  of  efficiency.  But  along  with  every 
increment  of  growth  achieved  by  the  help  of  these  partially- 
developed  structm^es,  there  has  to  go  an  alteration  of  the 
structures  themselves.  If  they  were  rightly  adjusted  to  the 
preceding  smaller  size,  they  are  wrongly  adjusted  to  the  suc- 
ceeding greater  size.  Hence  they  must  be  re-moulded — un- 
built and  rc-built.  Manifestly,  therefore,  in  proportion  as  the 
previous  building  has  been  complete,  there  arises  a  great  ob- 
stacle in  the  shape  of  un-building  and  re-building.  The 
bones  show  us  how  this  difficulty  is  met.  In  the  thigh-bone 
of  a  boy,  for  instance,  there  exists  between  the  head  and 
the  cylindrical  part  of  the  bone,  a  place  where  the  original 
cartilaginous  state  continues ;  and  where,  by  the  addition  of 
new  cartilage  in  which  new  osseous  matter  is  deposited,  the 
shaft  of  the  bone  is  lengthened :   the  like  going  on  in  an 


58  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

answering  place  at  the  other  end  of  the  shaft.  Complete 
ossification  at  these  two  places  occurs  only  when  the  bone  has 
ceased  to  increase  in  length  ;  and,  on  considering  what  would 
have  happened  liad  the  bone  been  ossified  from  end  to  end 
before  its  lengthening  was  complete,  it  will  be  seen  how  great 
an  obstacle  to  growth  is  thus  escaped.  What  holds  here, 
holds  throughout  the  organism  :  though  structure  up  to  a  cer- 
tain point  is  requisite  for  growth,  structure  beyond  that  point 
impedes  growth.  How  necessary  is  this  relation  we  shall 

equally  perceive  in  a  more  complex  case — say,  the  growth  of 
an  entire  limb.  There  is  a  certain  size  and  proportion  of 
parts,  which  a  limb  ordinarily  has  in  relation  to  the  rest  of 
the  body.  Throw  upon  that  limb  exti-a  function,  and  within 
moderate  limits  it  will  increase  in  strength  and  bulk.  If  the 
extra  function  begins  early  in  life,  the  limb  may  be  raised 
considerably  above  its  usual  size;  but  if  the  extra  function 
begins  after  maturity,  the  deviation  is  less  :  in  neither  case, 
however,  being  gi*eat.  If  we  consider  how  increase  of  the 
limb  is  effected,  we  shall  see  why  this  is  so.  More  active 
function  brings  a  greater  local  supply  of  blood;  and,  for  a 
time,  new  tissue  is  formed  in  excess  of  Avaste.  But  the  local 
supply  of  blood  is  limited  by  the  sizes  of  the  arteries  which 
bring  it ;  and  though,  up  to  a  certain  point,  increase  of  How 
is  gained  by  temporary  dilatation  of  them,  yet  beyond  that 
point  increase  can  be  gained  only  by  un-building  and  re- 
building the  arteries.  Such  alterations  of  arteries  slowly 
take  place — less  slowly  with  the  smaller  peripheral  ones, 
more  slowly  with  the  larger  ones  out  of  which  tliese  branch ; 
since  these  have  to  be  altered  all  the  way  back  to  their 
points  of  divergence  from  the  great  central  blood  vessels. 
In  like  maniier,  the  channels  for  carrying  off  waste  products 
must  be  re-modelled,  both  locally  and  centrally.  The  nerve- 
trunks,  too,  and  also  the  centres  from  which  they  come,  must 
be  adjusted  to  the  greater  demands  upon  tliem.  Nay,  more ; 
with  a  given  visceral  system,  a  large  extra  quantity  of  blood 
cannot  be  pcnnMnenlly  given  to  one  jjart  of  the  body,  with- 
out decreasing  the  cjuantities  given  to  other  parts;  and,  there- 
fore, structural  changes  have  to  l)e  made  by  which  the 
(Irafting-otf  of  blood  to  the.se  otln-r  parts  is  diniinished. 
Hence  the  great  resistance  to  increa.se  in  the  size  of  a  limb 


NATURE   OP  THE  SOCIAL   SCIENCE.  59 

beyond  a  certain  moderate  limit.  Such  increase  cannot  be 
effected  without  un-building  and  re-buikhng  not  only  the 
parts  tliat  directly  minister  to  the  limb,  but,  eventually,  all 
the  remoter  parts.  So  that  the  bringing  of  structures  into 
perfect  fitness  for  certain  requirements,  immensely  hinders 
the  adaptation  of  them  to  other  requirements — re-adjustments 
become  diflficult  in  proportion  as  adjustments  are  made  com- 
plete. 

How  far  does  this  law  hold  in  the  social  organism  ?  To 
what  extent  does  it  happen  here,  too,  that  the  multiplying  and 
elaborating  of  institutions,  and  the  perfecting  of  arrangements 
for  gaining  immediate  ends,  raise  impediments  to  the  develop- 
ment of  better  institutions  and  to  the  future  gaining  of  higher 
ends  ?  Socially,  as  well  as  individually,  organization  is  indis- 
l)ensable  to  growth :  beyond  a  certain  point  there  cannot  be 
further  growth  without  further  organization.  Yet  there  is  not 
a  little  reason  for  suspecting  that  beyond  this  point  organiza- 
tion is  indirectly  repressive — increases  the  obstacles  to  those 
re-adjustments  required  for  larger  growth  and  more  perfect 
structure.  Doubtless  the  aggregate  we  call  a  society  is  much 
more  plastic  than  an  individual  living  aggregate  to  which  it 
is  here  compared — its  type  is  far  less  fixed.  Nevertheless,  there 
is  evidence  that  its  type  tends  continually  to  become  fixed,  and 
that  each  addition  to  its  structures  is  a  step  towards  the  fixa- 
tion. A  few  instances  will  show  how  this  is  true  alike  of  the 
material  structures  a  society  develops  and  of  its  institutions, 
l^olitical  or  other. 

Cases,  insignificant,  perhaps,  but  quite  to  the  point,  are 
furnished  by  our  appliances  for  locomotion.  Not  to  dwell  on 
the  minor  ones  within  cities,  which,  however,  show  us  that 
existing  arrangements  are  impediments  to  better  arrangements, 
let  us  pass  to  railways.  Observe  how  the  inconveniently-nar- 
row gauge  (which,  taken  from  that  of  stage-coach  wheels,  was 
itself  inherited  from  an  antecedent  system  of  locomotion),  has 
become  an  insuperable  obstacle  to  a  better  gauge.  Observe, 
also,  how  the  type  of  carriage,  which  was  derived  from  the 
body  of  a  stage-coach  (some  of  the  early  first-class  carriages 
bearing  the  words  "  tria  juncta  in  tmo "),  having  become 
established,  it  is  immensely  difficult  now  to  introduce  the 
more  convenient  type  later  established  in  America;  where 


60  THE  STUDY   OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

they  profited  by  our  experience,  but  were  not  hampered  by 
our  adopted  plans.  The  enormous  capital  invested  in  our 
stock  of  cax-riages  cannot  be  sacrificed.  Gradually  to  intro- 
duce carriages  of  the  American  type,  by  running  them  along 
with  those  of  our  own  type,  would  be  very  difiicult,  because 
of  our  many  partings  and  joinings  of  trains.  And  thus  we 
are  obliged  to  go  on  with  a  type  that  is  inferior. 

Take,  again,  our  system  of  drainage.  Urged  on  as  it  was 
some  thirty  years  ago  as  a  panacea  for  sundry  sanitary  evils, 
and  spread  as  it  has  been  by  force  of  law  through  all  our  great 
towns,  this  system  cannot  now  be  replaced  by  a  better  sj'stem 
without  extreme  difiiculty.  Though,  by  necessitating  decom- 
position where  oxygen  cannot  get,  and  so  generating  chemical 
compounds  that  are  unstable  and  poisonous,  it  has  in  many 
cases  produced  the  very  diseases  it  was  to  have  prevented; 
though,  by  delivering  the  morbid  products  from  fever-patients, 
&c.,  into  a  branching  tube  which,  comnumicating  with  all 
houses,  effectually  conveys  to  them  infecting  gases  that  are 
kept  out  only  so  long  as  stink-traps  are  in  good  order ;  j^et  it 
has  become  almost  out  of  the  question  now  to  adopt  those 
methods  by  which  the  excreta  of  towns  may  be  got  rid  of  at 
once  innocuously  and  u.sefully.  Nay,  wor.sc — one  pai*t  of  our 
sanitary  administration  having  insisted  on  a  sewage-system 
by  which  Oxford,  Reading,  Maidenhead,  Windsor,  &c.,  pollute 
the  water  Loudon  lias  to  drink,  anotlior  part  of  our  sanitary 
administration  makes  loud  protests  against  the  impurity  of  the 
water,  which  it  charges  with  causing  disease  (not  remarking, 
however,  that  law-enforced  arrangements  have  produced  the 
impurity).  And  now  there  must  be  a  re-organization  that  will 
be  immen.sely  impeded  by  the  existing  premature  organization, 
before  we  can  have  eitli(>r  pure  air  or  pure  water. 

Our  mercantile  arrangements,  again,  furnisli  abundant  illus- 
trations teaching  the  same  lesson.  In  each  trade  there  is  an 
established  course  of  l)iisiiiess ;  and  lunvevor  obvious  maybe 
some  better  course,  the  dilUculties  of  altering  tlie.scttled  I'outino 
are,  if  not  insurmountable,  still  very  considerable.  Take,  for 
instance,  the  commerce  of  literature.  In  days  when  a  letter 
cost  a  sliilling  and  no  book-jiost  ('xistcd,  there  grew  U])  an  or- 
ganization of  wholesalers  and  retailers  to  convey  l)ooks  from 
puldishci'S  to  readers  :  a  profit  being  reached  by  each  distribut- 


NATURE  OF  THE  SOCIAL  SCIENCE.  61 

ing  agent,  primary  and  secondary.  Now  tliat  a  book  may  be 
ordered  for  a  half-penny  and  sent  for  a  few  pence,  the  okl  sys- 
tem of  distribution  might  be  replaced  by  one  that  would  di- 
minish the  cost  of  transfer,  and  lower  the  prices  of  books.  But 
the  interests  of  distributors  practically  negative  the  change. 
An  advei'tised  proposal  to  supply  a  book  direct  by  post  at  a 
reduced  rate,  offends  the  trade  ;  and  by  ignoring  the  book  they 
check  its  sale  more  than  its  sale  is  otherwise  furthered.  And 
so  an  old  organization,  once  very  serviceable,  now  stands  in 
the  way  of  a  better  organization.  The  commerce  of  liter- 

ature furnishes  another  illustration.  At  a  time  when  the 
reading  public  was  small  and  books  were  dear,  there  grew  up 
circulating  libraries,  enabling  people  to  read  books  without 
buying  them.  At  first  few,  local,  and  unorganized,  these  cir- 
culating libraries  have  gi'eatly  multiplied,  and  have  become 
organized  throughout  the  kingdom  :  the  result  being  that  the 
demand  for  library-circulation  is  in  many  cases  the  chief  de- 
mand. This  arrangement  being  one  which  makes  few  cojiies 
supply  many  readers,  the  price  per  copy  must  be  high,  to  ob- 
tain an  adequate  return  on  the  edition.  And  now  reading 
people  in  general,  having  been  brought  up  to  the  habit  of  get- 
ting books  through  libi^aries,  usually  do  not  tliink  of  buying 
the  books  themselves — would  still  get  most  of  them  through 
libraries  even  were  they  considerably  cheapened.  We  ai'e, 
therefore,  except  with  works  of  very  jjopular  authors,  pre- 
vented by  the  existing  system  of  book-distribution  in  England 
from  adopting  the  American  system — a  system  which,  not  ad- 
justing itself  to  few  libraries  but  to  many  private  purchasers, 
issues  large  editions  at  low  prices. 

Instances  of  another  class  are  supplied  by  our  educational 
institutions.  Richly  endowed,  strengthened  by  their  prestige, 
and  by  the  bias  given  to  those  they  have  brought  up,  our  col- 
leges, public  schools,  and  other  kindred  schools  early  founded, 
useful  as  they  once  were,  have  long  been  enormous  impedi- 
ments to  a  higher  education.  By  subsidizing  the  old,  they 
have  starved  the  new.  Even  now  they  are  retarding  a  culture 
better  in  matter  and  manner ;  both  by  occupying  the  field, 
and  by  partially  incapacitating  those  who  pass  through  them 
for  seeing  what  a  better  culture  is.  Evidence  of  a  kindred 

kind  is  offered  by  the  educational  organization  developed  for 


62  THE  STUDY   OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

dealing  with  the  masses.  The  struggle  going  on  between 
Secularism  and  Denominationalism  in  teaching,  might  alone 
show  to  any  one  who  looks  for  the  wider  meanings  of  facts, 
that  a  structure  which  has  ramified  tlu'oughout  a  society,  ac- 
quired an  army  of  salaried  officials  looking  for  personal  wel- 
fare and  promotion,  backed  by  classes,  ecclesiastical  and  polit- 
ical, whose  ideas  and  interests  they  further,  is  a  structure 
which,  if  not  unalterable,  is  difficult  to  alter  in  proportion  as 
it  is  highly  developed. 

These  few  examples,  which  might  be  supported  by  others 
from  the  military  organization,  the  ecclesiastical  organization, 
the  legal  organization,  will  make  comprehensible  the  analogy 
I  have  indicated ;  while  they  make  cleai'er  the  nature  of  the 
Social  Science,  by  bringing  into  view  one  of  its  questions. 
That  with  social  organisms,  as  with  individual  organisms, 
structure  up  to  a  certain  point  is  needful  for  growth  is  obvious. 
That  in  the  one  case,  as  in  the  other,  continued  gro\\i:h  implies 
uu-building  and  re-building  of  structure,  which  therefore  be- 
comes in  so  far  an  impedin:ient,  seems  also  obvious.  Whetlier 
it  is  true  in  the  one  case,  as  in  the  other,  that  completion  of 
structure  involves  arrest  of  growth,  and  fixes  the  society  to 
the  type  it  has  then  reached,  is  a  question  to  be  considered. 
Without  saying  anything  more  by  way  of  ansAver,  it  is,  I 
think,  manifest  enough  tliat  this  is  one  belonging  to  an  order 
of  questions  entirely  overlooked  by  those  who  contemplate 
societies  from  the  ordinary  liistorical  point  of  view ;  and  one 
pertaining  to  that  Social  Science  wliich  they  say  does  not 
exist. 

Are  tliere  any  who  \itter  the  cul  bono  criticism  ?  Proba- 
bly not  a  few.  I  think  I  hear  from  some  wliose  mental  atti- 
tude is  familiar  to  me,  tlie  doubt  whether  it  is  worth  while  to 
a.sk  what  happens  among  savage  tribes;  in  what  Avay  chiefs 
and  iiiediciiie-men  arise;  how  the  industrial  fuiu-tions become 
seiKirati'd  from  tlie  ])()litical  ;  what  are  Ibe  original  relations 
of  the  rcgulafivc  classes  to  on(>  aiiolluM';  bow  far  the.  social 
structure  is  (Icfcriniiicd  liy  tlic  ciiiolion;!!  n.iliircs  of  individ- 
ual.s,  how  far  liv  tlu^ir  idea.s,  how  far  by  their  ciivironnient. 
P>iisio(l  .MS  iiK'u  of  this  st;mi]>  arc  with  wb.'it  they  cmII  "prac- 
tical legislation ''  ^by  which  they  .seemingly  mean  legislation 


l^ATURE  OF  THE  SOCIAL  SCIENCE,  63 

that  recognises  proximate  causes  and  effects  while  ignoring' 
remote  ones),  they  doubt  whether  conclusions  of  the  kind 
Social  Science  proposes  to  draw,  are  good  for  much  when 
drawn. 

Something  may,  however,  be  said  in  defence  of  this  study 
which  they  thus  estimate.  Of  course,  it  is  not  to  be  put  on 
the  same  level  with  those  historical  studies  so  deeply  interest- 
ing to  them.  The  supreme  value  of  knowledge  respecting  the 
genealogies  of  kings,  and  the  fates  of  dynasties,  and  the  quar- 
rels of  courts,  is  beyond  question.  Whether  or  not  the  plot 
for  the  murder  of  Amy  Robsart  was  contrived  by  Leicester 
himself,  with  Queen  Elizabeth  as  an  accomplice  ;  and  whether 
or  not  the  account  of  the  Gowrie  Consjiiracy,  as  given  by 
King  James,  was  true  ;  are  obviously  doubts  to  be  decided 
before  there  can  be  formed  any  rational  conclusions  respect- 
ing the  development  of  our  political  institutions.  That  Fried- 
rich  I.  of  Prussia  quarrelled  with  his  stepmother,  suspected 
her  of  trying  to  j^oison  him,  fled  to  his  aunt,  and  when  he  suc- 
ceeded to  the  Electorate,  intrigued  and  bribed  to  obtain  his 
kingship  ;  that  half-an-hour  after  his  death  his  son  Friedi-ich 
Wilhelm  gave  his  courtiers  notice  to  quit,  commenced  forth- 
with to  economize  his  revenues,  made  it  his  gi'eat  object  to 
recruit  and  drill  his  army,  and  presently  began  to  hate  and 
bully  his  son — these,  and  facts  like  these  about  all  royal  fam- 
ilies in  all  ages,  are  facts  without  which  civilization  would 
obviously  be  incomprehensible.  Nor  can  one  disi^ense  with 
full  knowledge  of  events  like  those  of  Napoleon's  wars — his 
Italian  conquests  and  exactions,  and  perfidious  treatment  of 
Venice ;  his  expedition  to  Egypt,  successes  and  massacres 
there,  failure  at  Acre,  and  eventual  retreat ;  his  various  cam- 
paigns in  Germany,  Spain,  Russia,  &c.,  including  accounts 
of  his  strategy,  tactics,  victories,  defeats,  slaughters ;  for  how, 
in  the  absence  of  such  information,  is  it  possible  to  judge  what 
institutions  should  be  advocated,  and  what  legislative  changes 
should  be  opposed  ? 

Still,  after  due  attention  has  been  paid  to  these  indispensa- 
ble matters,  a  little  time  might,  iierhaps,  \vith  advantage  be 
devoted  to  the  natural  history  of  societies.  Some  guidance 
for  political  conduct  would  possibly  be  reached  by  asking — 
What  is  the  normal  course  of  social  evolution,  and  how  will 
6 


6-1:  THE   STUDY   OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

it  be  effected  by  this  or  that  policy  ?  It  may  turn  out  that 
legislative  action  of  no  kind  can  be  taken  that  is  not  either  in 
agreement  with,  or  at  variance  with,  the  processes  of  national 
growth  and  development  as  naturally  going  on  ;  and  that  its 
desirableness  is  to  be  judged  by  this  ultimate  standard  rather 
than  by  proximate  standards.  Without  claiming  too  much, 
we  may  at  any  rate  expect  that,  if  there  does  exist  an  order 
among  those  structural  and  functional  changes  which  socie- 
ties pass  through,  knowledge  of  tliat  order  can  scarcely  fail 
to  affect  our  judgments  as  to  what  is  progressive  and  what 
retrograde — what  is  desirable,  what  is  practicable,  what  is 
Utopian. 

To  those  who  think  such  an  inquiry  worthy  to  be  pursued, 
will  be  addressed  the  chapters  that  are  to  follow.  There  are 
sundry  considerations  important  to  be  dwelt  upon,  before 
commencing  Sociologv.  To  a  clear  idea  of  the  nature  of  the 
science  have  to  be  added  clear  ideas  of  the  conditions  to  suc- 
cessful study  of  it.    These  will  henceforth  occupy  us. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

DIFFICULTIES   OF   THE   SOCIAL   SCIENCE. 

From  the  intrinsic  natures  of  its  facts,  from  our  own  na- 
tures as  observers  of  its  facts,  and  from  the  jjeculiar  relation 
in  which  we  stand  towards  the  facts  to  be  observed,  there  arise 
impediments  in  the  way  of  Sociology  gi-eater  than  those  in 
the  way  of  any  other  science. 

The  phenomena  to  be  generalized  are  not  of  a  directly-per- 
ceptible kind — cannot  be  noted  by  telescope  and  clock,  like 
those  of  Astronomy;  cannot  be  measured  by  dynamometer 
and  thermometer,  like  those  of  Physics ;  cannot  be  elucidated 
by  scales  and  test-papers,  like  those  of  Chemistry ;  are  not  to 
be  got  at  by  scalpel  and  microscope,  like  the  less  obvious  bio- 
logical phenomena  ;  nor  are  to  be  recognized  by  introspection, 
like  the  phenomena  Psychology  deals  with.  They  have  sev- 
erally to  be  established  by  putting  together  many  details,  no 
one  of  which  is  simple,  and  which  are  dispersed,  both  in  Space 
and  Time,  in  ways  that  make  them  difficult  of  access.  Hence 
the  reason  why  even  cardinal  truths  in  Sociology,  such  as  the 
division  of  labour,  remain  long  unrecognized.  That  in  ad- 
vanced societies  men  follow  different  occupations,  was  indeed 
a  generalization  easy  to  make ;  but  that  this  form  of  social 
arrangement  had  neither  been  specially  created,  nor  enacted 
by  a  king,  but  had  grown  up  without  forethought  of  any  one, 
was  a  conclusion  which  coixld  be  reached  only  after  many 
transactions  of  many  kinds  between  men  had  been  noted,  re- 
membered, and  accounted  for,  and  only  after  comparisons 
had  been  made  between  these  transactions  and  those  taking 
place  between  men  in  simpler  societies  and  in  earlier  times. 
And  when  it  is  remembered  that  the  data  for  the  inference 
that  labour  becomes  specialized,  are  far  more  accessible  than 

65 


66  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

the  data  for  most  other  sociological  inferences,  it  will  be  seen 
how  gi'eatly  the  advance  of  Sociology  is  hindered  by  the  na- 
ture of  its  subject-matter. 

The  characters  of  men  as  observers,  add  to  this  first  diffi- 
culty a  second  that  is  perhaps  equally  great.  Necessarily  men 
take  with  them  into  sociological  inquiries,  the  modes  of  obser- 
vation and  reasoning  which  they  have  been  accustomed  to  in 
other  inquiries — those  of  them,  at  least,  who  make  any  inqui- 
ries worthy  to  be  so  called.  Passing  over  the  great  majority 
of  the  educated,  and  limiting  ourselves  to  the  very  few  who 
consciously  collect  data,  compai"e  them,  and  deliberately  di'aw 
conclusions  ;  we  may  see  that  even  these  have  to  struggle  with 
the  difficulty  that  the  habits  of  thought  generated  by  converse 
with  relatively-simple  phenomena,  partially  unfit  them  for 
converse  with  these  highly-complex  phenomena.  Faculty  of 
every  kind  tends  always  to  adjust  itself  to  its  work.  Special 
adjiistment  to  one  kind  of  work  involves  more  or  less  non- 
adjustment  to  other  kinds.  And  hence,  intellects  disciplined 
in  dealing  with  less-involved  classes  of  facts,  cannot  success- 
fully deal  with  this  most-involved  class  of  facts  without  par- 
tially unlearning  the  methods  they  have  learnt.  From  the 
emotional  nature,  too,  there  arise  great  obstacles.  Scarcely 
any  one  can  contemplate  social  arrangements  and  actions 
with  the  unconcern  felt  when  contemplating  arrangements 
and  actions  of  other  kinds.  For  correct  observation  and  cor- 
rect drawing  of  inferences,  tliere  needs  the  calmness  that  is 
ready  to  recognize  or  to  infer  one  truth  as  readily  as  another. 
But  it  is  next  to  impossible  thus  to  deal  with  the  truths  of 
Sociology.  In  the  search  for  them,  eacli  is  moved  by  feel- 
ings, more  or  less  strong,  which  make  him  eager  to  find  this 
evidence,  oblivious  of  tliat  which  is  at  variance  with  it,  reluc- 
tant to  draw  any  conclusion  but  that  already  drawni.  And 
though  perhaps  one  in  ten  among  those  wlio  tliink,  is  con- 
scious that  his  judgment  is  being  warpod  by  prejudice,  yet 
oven  in  him  tlie  warp  is  not  adequately  allowed  for.  Doubt- 
less in  nearly  every  field  of  inquiry  emotion  is  a  perturbing 
intruder:  mostly  there  is  some  preconcei)tioii,  and  some 
amour  proprr  lliat  resists  (lis])roof  of  it.  But  a  peculiarily  of 
Sociology  is,  that  llie  oTiiotious  with  which  its  facts  and  con- 
clusions arc  regarded,  have  uiuisual  strength.     The  personal 


DIFFICULTIES  OF  THE  SOCIAL  SCIENCE.  67 

interests  are  directly  alTected ;  or  tliere  is  gratification  or  offence 
to  sentiments  that  have  grown  out  of  them  ;  or  else  other  sen- 
timents M^iich  have  relation  to  the  existing  form  of  society, 
are  excited,  agreeably  or  disagreeably. 

And  here  we  are  introduced  to  the  third  kind  of  difficulty — 
that  caused  by  the  position  occupied,  in  respect  to  the  phenom- 
ena to  be  generalized.  In  no  other  case  has  the  inquirer  to 
investigate  the  properties  of  an  aggregate  in  which  he  is  him- 
self included.  His  relation  towards  the  facts  he  here  studies, 
we  may  figure  to  ourselves  by  comparing  it  to  the  relation  be- 
tween a  single  cell  forming  part  of  a  living  body,  and  the 
facts  which  that  living  body  presents  as  a  whole.  Speaking 
generally,  the  citizen's  life  is  made  possible  only  by  due  per- 
formance of  his  function  in  the  place  he  fills ;  and  he  cannot 
wholly  free  himself  from  the  beliefs  and  sentiments  generated 
by  the  vital  connexions  hence  arising  between  himself  and 
his  society.  Here,  then,  is  a  difficulty  to  which  no  other 
science  presents  anything  analogous.  To  cut  himself  oS  in 
thought  from  all  his  relationships  of  race,  and  country,  and 
citizenship — to  get  rid  of  all  those  interests,  i^rejudices,  likings, 
superstitions,  generated  in  him  by  the  life  of  his  own  society 
and  liis  own  time — to  look  on  all  the  changes  societies  have 
undergone  and  are  undergoing,  without  reference  to  national- 
ity, or  creed,  or  personal  welfare ;  is  what  the  average  man 
cannot  do  at  all,  and  what  the  exceptional  man  can  do  very 
imperfectly. 

The  difficulties  of  the  Social  Science,  thus  indicated  in 
vague  outline,  have  now  to  be  described  and  illustrated  in 
detail. 


CHAPTER  V. 

OBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES. 

Along  with  much  that  has  of  late  years  been  done  towards 
changing  primitive  history  into  myth,  and  along  with  much 
that  has  been  done  toward  changing  once-unquestioned  esti- 
mates of  persons  living  in  past  ages,  much  has  been  said  about 
the  untrustworthiness  of  historical  evidence.  Hence  there 
will  be  ready  acceptance  of  the  statement  that  one  of  the  im- 
pediments to  sociological  generalization,  is  the  uncertainty  of 
our  data.  We  find  this  uncertainty  not  alone  in  early  stories, 
such  as  those  about  the  Amazons,  their  practices,  the  particu- 
lar battles  with  them,  &c.  ;  which  are  recorded  and  sculptured 
as  circumstantially  as  they  might  be  Avere  the  persons  and 
events  historic.  We  find  it  even  in  accounts  of  a  well-known 
people  like  the  New-Zealanders,  who  "  by  some  .  .  .  are  said 
to  be  intelligent,  cruel,  and  brave ;  by  others  Aveak,  kindly, 
and  cowardly." '  And  on  remembering  that  between  these 
extremes  we  have  to  deal  with  an  enormous  accumulation  of 
conflicting  statements,  we  cannot  but  feel  that  the  task  of  se- 
lecting valid  evidence  is  in  this  case  a  more  arduous  one  than 
in  any  other  case.  Passing  over  remote  illustrations,  let  us 
take  an  immediate  one. 

Last  year  advertisements  announced  llie  "Two-headed 
Nightingale,"  and  the  walls  of  London  were  placarded  with  a 
figure  in  which  one  pair  of  shoulders  were  shown  to  bear 
two  heads  loolcing  lh(>  same  way  (T  do  not  refer  to  the  later 
placards,  uliich  parlinlly  dillVrcd  fi-om  th(>  earlier).  To  some, 
this  descriptive  name  and  aiiswering  diagram  seemed  sulli- 
cieiitly  exact  :  U>y  in  my  li<'ariiig  a  lady,  who  li.'id  hern  lo  see 
this  c())iip(»iin(l  lii'iiig,  referred  to  the  placards  and  liaiidhills 
as  giving  a  good  representation.     If  we  suj)i)ose  this  lady  to 

08 


OBJECTIVE   DIFFICULTIES.  69 

have  repeated  in  a  letter  that  which  I  heard  her  say,  and  if  we 
ask  what  woukl  appear  the  character  of  the  evidence  to  one 
who,  some  fifty  years  hence,  had  before  him  the  advertise- 
ment, the  representation,  and  the  letter,  we  shall  see  that  the 
alleged  fact  would  be  thought  by  him  incontestable.  Only  if, 
after  weary  search  through  all  the  x^ajjers  and  periodicals  of  the 
time,  he  happened  to  come  upon  a  certain  number  of  the  Lan- 
cet, would  he  discover  that  this  combination  was  not  that  of  two 
heads  on  one  body,  but  that  of  two  individuals  united  back  to 
back,  with  heads  facing  opposite  ways,  and  severally  complete 
in  all  respects,  except  where  the  parts  were  so  fused  as  to  form 
a  double  pelvis,  containing  certain  pelvic  viscera  common  to 
the  two.  Seeing,  then,  that  about  facts  so  simple  and  so  easily 
verifiable,  where  no  obvious  motive  for  misrepresentations  ex- 
ists, we  cannot  count  on  true  representations,  how  shall  we 
count  on  true  representations  of  social  facts,  which,  being  so 
diffused  and  so  complex,  are  so  difficult  to  observe,  and  in  re- 
spect to  which  the  perceptions  are  so  much  perverted  by  inter- 
ests, and  prepossessions,  and  party-feelings  ? 

In  exemplifying  this  difiiculty,  I  will  limit  myself  to  cases 
supplied  by  the  life  of  our  own  time  :  leaving  it  to  be  inferred 
that  if,  in  a  comparatively  calm  and  critical  age,  sociological 
evidence  is  vitiated  by  various  infiuences,  much  more  must 
there  have  been  vitiation  of  such  evidence  in  the  past,  when 
passions  ran  higher  and  credulity  was  greater. 

Those  who  have  lately  become  conscious  of  certain  facts 
are  apt  to  suppose  those  facts  have  lately  arisen.  After  a 
changed  state  of  mind  has  made  us  observant  of  occurrences 
■vve  were  before  indifferent  to,  there  often  results  the  belief 
that  such  occurrences  are  more  common  than  they  were.  It 
happens  so  even  with  accidents  and  diseases.  Having  lamed 
himself,  a  man  is  surprised  to  find  how  many  lame  people 
there  are  ;  and,  becoming  dyspeptic,  he  discovers  that  dyspep- 
sia is  much  moi'e  frequent  than  he  supposed  when  he  was 
young.  For  a  kindred  reason  he  is  prone  to  think  that  serv- 
ants do  not  behave  nearly  so  well  as  they  did  during  his  boy- 
hood :  not  remembering  that  in  Shakespeare's  days  the  service 
obtainable  was  similarly  reprobated  in  comparison  with  "  the 
constant  service  of  the  antique  world."     In  like  manner,  now 


70  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

that  he  has  sons  to  establish  in  life,  he  fancies  that  the  diffi- 
culty of  getting  places  is  much  greater  than  it  used  to  be. 

As  witnesses  to  social  phenomena,  men  thus  impressed  by 
facts  which  did  not  before  impress  them,  became  perverters  of 
evidence.  Things  they  have  suddenly  recognized,  they  mis- 
take for  things  that  have  suddenly  come  into  existence  ;  and 
so  are  led  to  regai'd  as  a  growing  evil  or  good,  that  which  is 
very  likely  a  diminishing  evil  or  good.  Take  an  example 
or  two. 

In  generations  not  long  passed  away,  sobriety  was  the  ex- 
ception rather  than  the  rule :  a  man  who  had  never  been 
drunk  was  a  rarity.  Condiments  were  used  to  create  thirst ; 
glasses  were  so  shaped  that  they  would  not  stand,  but  must  be 
held  till  emptied  ;  and  a  man's  worth  was  in  part  measured 
by  the  number  of  bottles  he  could  take  in.  After  a  reaction 
had  already  diminished  the  evil  among  the  upper  and  middle 
ranks,  there  came  an  open  recognition  of  the  evil ;  resulting 
in  Temperance  Societies,  which  did  their  share  towards  fur- 
ther diminishing  it.  Then  came  the  Teetotal  Societies,  more 
thorough-going  in  their  views  and  more  energetic  in  their 
acts,  which  have  been  making  the  evil  still  less.  Such  has 
been  the  etfect  of  these  causes,  that  for  a  long  time  past  among 
the  upper  classes,  the  drinking  which  was  once  creditable  has 
been  thought  a  disgrace ;  while  among  the  lower  classes  it 
has  greatly  decreased,  and  come  to  be  generally  reprobated. 
Those,  however,  who,  carrying  on  the  agitations  against  it, 
have  had  their  eyes  more  and  more  Avidely  opened  to  the  vice, 
assert  or  imply  in  their  sijeeches  and  petitions  that  the  vice  is 
not  only  great  but  growing.  Having  in  the  course  of  a  gen- 
eration much  mitigated  it  by  their  voluntary  ofTorts,  tliey 
now  make  themselves  believe,  and  make  others  believe,  that 
it  is  too  gigantic  to  be  dealt  with  otherwise  than  by  repressive 
enactments — Maine-Laws  and  Permissive-Proliibitory  Bills. 
And,  if  we  are  to  be  guided  by  a  Select  Conunittee  which  has 
ju.st  reported,  fines  and  iTii])risonments  for  drunkenness  must 
be  made  far  more  severe  tliun  now,  and  reformatories  must  bo 
established  in  whicli  inebriates  shall  be  dealt  with  much  as 
criminals  are  dealt  witli. 

Take,  again,  tho  case  of  educatioTi.  do  back  far  enough, 
and  you  lind  nobles  not  only  incapable  of  reading  and  writ- 


OBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES.  'J'l 

ing,  but  treating  these  accomplishments  with  contempt.  Go 
back  not  quite  so  far,  and  you  find,  along  with  a  slight  en- 
'  couragement  by  authority  of  such  learning  as  referred  to 
Tlieology,  a  positive  discouragement  of  all  other  learning ; " 
joined  with  the  belief  that  only  for  the  clergy  is  learning  of 
any  kind  proper.  Go  back^  much  smaller  distance,  and  you 
find  in  the  highest  classes  inability  to  spell  tolerably,  joined 
with  moi'e  or  less  of  the  feeling  that  good  spelling  was  a 
pedantry  improper  for  ladies — a  feeling  akin  to  that  named 
by  Shakespeare  as  shown  by  those  who  counted  it  "  a  mean- 
ness to  write  fair."  Down  even  to  quite  modern  times,  well- 
to-do  farmers  and  others  of  their  rank  were  by  no  means  all 
of  them  able  to  read  and  write.  Education,  spreading  thus 
slowly  during  so  many  centuries,  has  during  the  last  century 
spread  with  comparative  rapidity.  Since  Raikes  commenced 
Sunday-schools  in  1771 ;  since  Lancaster,  the  Quaker,  in  1796 
set  up  the  first  of  the  schools  that  afterwards  went  by  his 
name  ;  since  1811,  when  the  Church  had  to  cease  its  opposi- 
tion and  become  a  competitor  in  educating  poor  children  ;  the 
strides  have  been  enormous.  A  degree  of  ignorance  which 
had  continued  the  rule  during  so  many  centuries,  was  made, 
in  the  course  of  half  a  century,  the  exception.  And  then  in 
1834,  after  this  unobtrusive  but  speedy  diffusion  of  knowl- 
edge, there  came  along  with  a  growing  consciousness  of  the 
still-remaining  deficiency,  the  system  of  State-subsidies ; 
which,  beginning  with  £30,000,  grew,  in  less  than  thirty  years, 
to  more  than  a  million.  Yet  now,  after  this  vast  progi'ess  at 
an  ever-increasing  rate,  there  has  come  the  outcry  that  the 
nation  is  perishing  for  lack  of  knowledge.  Any  one  not 
knowing  the  past,  and  judging  from  the  statements  of  those 
who  have  been  urging  on  educational  organizations,  would 
suppose  that  strenuous  efforts  are  imperative  to  save  the 
people  from  some  gulf  of  demoralization  and  crime  into  which 
ignorance  is  sweeping  them. 

How  testimonies  respecting  objective  facts  are  thus  per- 
verted by  the  subjective  states  of  the  witnesses,  and  how  we 
have  to  be  ever  on  our  guard  against  this  caLise  of  vitiation  in 
sociological  evidence,  may  indeed  be  inferred  from  the  illu- 
sions that  daily  mislead  men  in  their  comparisons  of  past  with 
present.    Returning  after  many  years  to  the  j)lace  of  his  boy- 


^2  THE  STUDY   OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

hood,  and  finding  how  insignificant  are  the  buildings  he  re- 
membered as  so  imposing,  every  one  discovers  that  in  this 
case  it  was  not  that  the  past  was  so  gi'and,  but  that  his  im- 
pressibility was  so  gi'eat  and  his  power  of  criticism  so  small 
He  does  not  perceive,  however,  that  the  like  holds  generally  ; 
and  that  the  apparant  decline  in  various  things  is  really  due 
to  the  widening  of  his  experiences  and  the  gi'owth  of  a  judg- 
ment no  longer  so  easily  satisfied.  Hence  the  mass  of  wit- 
nesses may  be  under  the  impression  that  there  is  going  on  a 
change  just  the  reverse  of  that  which  is  really  going  on  ;  as 
we  see,  for  example,  in  the  notion  current  in  every  age,  that 
the  size  and  strength  of  the  race  have  been  decreasing,  when, 
as  proved  by  bones,  by  mummies,  by  armom",  and  by  the  ex- 
periences of  travellers  in  contact  with  aboriginal  races,  they 
have  been  on  the  average  increasing. 

Most  testimony,  then,  on  which  we  have  to  form  ideas  of 
sociological  states,  past  and  present,  has  to  be  discounted  to 
meet  this  cause  of  error ;  and  the  rate  of  discount  has  to  be 
varied  according  to  the  epoch,  and  the  subject,  and  the  witness. 

Beyond  this  vitiation  of  sociological  evidence  by  general 
subjective  states  of  the  witnesses,  there  are  vitiations  due  to 
more  special  subjective  states.  Of  these,  the  first  to  be  noted 
are  of  the  class  which  foregone  conclusions  produce. 

Extreme  cases  are  furnished  by  fanatical  ngitators,  such  as 
members  of  the  Anti-Tobacco  Society  ;  in  tlie  accoinit  of  whose 
late  meeting  we  read  that  "  statistics  of  heart-disease,  of  insan- 
ity, of  paralysis,  and  the  diminished  bulk  and  stature  of  the 
population  of  both  sexes  j)roved,  according  to  the  Report,  that 
these  diseases  were  attributable  to  the  use  of  tobacco."  But 
without  making  uiucli  of  instances  so  glaring  ixs  this,  we  may 
find  abundant  ])roof  that  evidence  is  in  mo.st  cases  uncon- 
sciously distorted  by  the  pet  theories  of  those  Avho  give  it. 

Early  in  tlie  history  of  our  sanitary  legislation,  a  leading 
olficer  of  lu'altii,  wishing  to  sliow  the  need  for  (hose  measures 
he  advocated,  drew  a  coniparison  between  the  rate  of  mortality 
in  some  salubrious  village  (in  Cumberland,  I  think  it  was) 
and  the  rale  of  Jiiortality  in  London;  and  Ihen.  ])oinlingout 
the  marked  difierence,  alleged  that  this  difierence  was  due  to 
"preventihh;  causes" — to  causes,  that  is,  which  good  .sanitary 


OBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES.  73 

administration  would  exclude.  Ig-noring  the  fact  that  the 
carbonic  acid  exhaled  by  nearly  three  millions  of  jieople  and 
by  their  fires,  caused  in  the  one  case  a  vitiation  of  the  air 
which  in  the  other  case  did  not  exist — ignoring  the  fact  that 
most  city-occupations  are  of  necessity  indoor,  and  many  of 
them  sedentary,  while  the  occupations  of  village  life  are  out- 
of-door  and  active — ignoring  the  fact  that  in  many  of  the  Lon- 
doners the  activities  are  cerebral  in  a  degree  beyond  that  to 
which  the  constitution  of  the  race  is  adapted,  wliile  in  the  vil- 
lagers the  activities  are  bodily,  in  a  degree  appropriate  to  the 
constitution  of  the  race  ;  he  set  down  the  whole  difference  in 
the  death-rate  to  causes  of  tlie  kind  which  laws  and  officials 
might  get  rid  of. 

A  still  more  marked  example  of  this  effect  of  a  cherished 
hypothesis  in  vitiating  evidence,  was  once  unconsciously 
yielded  to  me  by  another  enthusiast  for  sanitary  regulation. 
Producing  his  papers,  he  pointed  out  the  great  contrast  be- 
tween the  number  of  deaths  per  annum  in  the  small  town 
near  London  where  he  lived,  and  the  number  of  deaths  per 
annum  in  a  low  district  of  London — Bermondsey,  or  Lam- 
beth, or  some  region  on  the  Surrey  side.  On  this  great  con- 
trast he  triumphantly  dilated,  as  proving  how  much  could  be 
done  by  good  drainage,  ventilation,  &c.  On  the  one  hand, 
he  passed  over  the  fact  that  his  suburban  place  was,  in  large 
measure,  inhabited  by  a  picked  population — people  of  means, 
well  fed  and  clothed,  able  to  secure  all  appliances  for  comfort, 
leading  regular  lives,  free  from  over- work  and  anxiety.  On 
the  other  hand,  he  passed  over  the  fact  that  this  low  region  of 
London  was,  by  virtue  of  its  lowness,  one  out  of  which  all 
citizens  pecuniarily  able  to  take  care  of  themselves  escaped  if 
they  could,  and  into  which  were  thrust  great  numbei's  whose 
poverty  excluded  them  from  better  regions — the  ill-fed,  the 
drunken,  the  dissolute,  and  others  on  the  highway  to  death. 
Though,  in  the  first  case,  the  healthiness  of  the  locality  obvi- 
ously drew  to  it  an  excess  of  persons  otherwise  likely  to  live 
long ;  and  though,  i]i  tlie  second  case,  the  unheal thiness  of  the 
locality  made  it  one  in  which  an  excess  of  those  not  likely  to 
live  long  were  left  to  dwell,  or  hid  themselves  to  die ;  yet  the 
whole  difference  was  put  down  to  direct  effects  of  j)ure  air  and 
impure  air  respectively. 


74  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

Statements  proceeding  from  witnesses  whose  judgments 
are  thus  warped — statements  republished  by  careless  sub- 
editors, and  readily  accepted  by  the  uncritical  Avho  believe  all 
they  see  in  print,  diffuse  erroneous  prepossessions ;  which, 
again,  tend  to  justify  themselves  by  di*awing  the  attention 
to  confirmatory  facts  and  away  from  facts  that  are  adverse. 
Throughout  all  past  time  vitiations  of  evidence  by  influences 
of  this  nature  have  been  going  on  in  degrees  varying  with 
each  people  and  each  age ;  and  hence  arises  an  additional  ob- 
stacle to  the  obtainment  of  fit  data. 

Yet  another,  and  perhaps  stronger,  distorting  influence  ex- 
isting in  the  medium  tln-ougli  which  facts  reach  us,  results 
from  the  self-seeking,  pecuniary  or  other,  of  those  who  testify. 
We  require  constantly  to  bear  in  mind  that  personal  interests 
effect  most  of  the  statements  on  which  sociological  conclusions 
are  based,  and  on  which  legislation  proceeds. 

Everyone  knows  this  to  be  so  where  the  evidence  concerns 
mercantile  affairs.  That  railway-enterprise,  at  first  prompted 
by  pressing  needs  for  communication,  presently  came  to  be 
prompted  by  speculators,  professional  and  financial ;  and  that 
the  estimates  of  cost,  of  traffic,  of  profits,  &c.,  set  forth  in  pros- 
pectuses were  grossly  misleading ;  many  readers  have  been 
taught  by  bitter  experience.  That  the  gains  .secured  by 
schemers  who  float  companies  have  fostered  an  organized  sys- 
tem which  has  made  falsification  of  data  a  business,  and 
which,  in  the  ca.se  of  bubble  Insurance  Companies,  has  been 
worked  so  methodically  that  it  has  become  the  function  of  a 
jourtKil  to  expose  the  frauds  contiimally  repeated,  are  also 
familiar  facts:  reminding  us  how,  in  these  directions,  it  is 
needful  to  look  very  sceptically  on  the  allegations  put  before 
us.  But  there  is  not  so  distinct  a  consciousness  that  in  other 
tliau  Ijusiuess-enterprises,  self-seeking  is  an  active  cause  of  mis- 
representation. 

Like  tlie  getting-up  ot  companies,  the  getting-u])  of  agita- 
tions and  of  societies  is,  to  a  considerable  extent,  a  means  of 
advancement.  As  in  the  United  States  politics  has  become  a 
profession,  into  wliicli  a  man  enters  to  get  an  income,  so  hero 
there  hits  grown  up.  tlioiigli  ha|)i)ily  to  a  smaller  extent,  a  pro- 
fessional pliilunthropy,  pur.sued  witli  a  view  to  position,  or  to 


OBJECTIVE  DIPPICDLTIES.  75 

profit,  or  to  both.  Much  as  the  young  clergyman  in  want  of 
a  benefice,  feeling  deeply  the  spiritual  destitution  of  a  suburb 
that  has  grown  beyond  churclies,  busies  himself  in  raising 
funds  to  buikl  a  church,  and  probably  does  not,  during  his 
canvass,  understate  the  evils  to  be  remedied  ;  so  every  here 
and  there  an  educated  man  with  plenty  of  leisure  and  small 
income,  greatly  impressed  with  some  social  evil  to  be  remedied 
or  benefit  to  be  achieved,  makes  himself  the  nucleus  to  an  in- 
stitution, or  the  spur  to  a  movement.  And  since  his  success 
depends  mainly  on  the  strength  of  the  case  he  makes  out,  it  is 
not  to  be  expected  that  the  evils  to  be  dealt  with  will  be  faintly 
pictured,  or  that  he  will  insist  very  strongly  upon  facts  adverse 
to  his  plan.  As  I  can  personally  testify,  there  are  those  who, 
having  been  active  in  getting  up  schemes  for  alleged  beneficial 
public  ends,  consider  themselves  aggrieved  when  not  after- 
wards appointed  salaried  officials.  The  recent  exposure  of  the 
"  Free  Dormitory  Association,"  which,  as  stated  at  a  meeting 
of  the  Charity-Organization  Society,  was  but  one  of  a  class, 
shows  what  this  process  may  end  in.  And  the  vitiation  of 
evidence  is  an  inevitable  concomitant.  One  whom  I  have 
known  dui'ing  his  thirty  years'  ex]Derience  of  Leagues,  Alli- 
ances, Unions,  &c.,  for  various  purposes,  writes: — "Like  re- 
ligious bodies,  they  [Associations]  form  creeds,  and  every  ad- 
herent is  expected  to  cry  up  the  shibboleth  of  his  party.  .  .  . 
All  facts  are  distorted  to  the  aid  of  their  own  views,  and  such 
as  cannot  be  distorted  are  suppressed."  "  In  every  association 
with  which  I  have  had  any  connection,  this  fraud  has  been 
practised." 

The  like  holds  in  political  agitations.  Unfortunately, 
agencies  established  to  get  remedies  for  crjdng  evils,  are 
liable  to  become  agencies  maintained  and  worked  in  a  con- 
siderable degree,  and  sometimes  chiefly,  for  the  benefit  of 
those  who  reap  incomes  from  them.  An  amusing  instance 
of  this  was  furnished,  not  many  years  ago,  to  a  Member  of 
Parliament  who  took  an  active  part  in  advocating  a  certain 
radical  measure  which  had  for  some  years  been  making  way, 
and  which  then  seemed  not  unlikely  to  be  carried.  Being  a 
member  of  the  Association  that  had  pushed  forward  this 
measure,  he  happened  to  step  into  its  offices  just  before  a 
debate  which  vras  expected  to  end  in  a  majority  for  the  bill, 


76  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

and  he  found  the  secretary  and  his  subs  in  a  state  of  conster- 
nation at  the  prospect  of  their  success :  feeling,  as  they  ob- 
viously did.  that  their  occupation  was  in  danger. 

Clearly,  then,  where  personal  interests  come  into  play,  there 
must  be,  even  in  men  intending  to  be  truthful,  a  great  readiness 
to  see  the  facts  which  it  is  convenient  to  see,  and  such  reluc- 
tance to  see  opposite  facts  as  will  prevent  much  activity  in  seek- 
ing for  them.  Hence,  a  large  discount  has  mostly  to  be  made 
from  the  evidence  furnished  by  institutions  and  societies  in 
justification  of  the  policies  they  pursue  or  advocate.  And  since 
much  of  the  evidence  respecting  both  past  and  present  social 
phenomena  comes  to  us  through  agencies  calculated  thus  to 
IDervert  it,  there  is  here  a  f  ui'ther  impediment  to  clear  vision  of 
facts. 

That  the  reader  may  fully  appreciate  the  difficulties  which 
these  distorting  influences,  when  combined,  put  in  the  way  of 
getting  good  materials  for  generalization,  let  liim  contemplate 
a  case. 

All  who  are  acquainted  with  such  matters  know  that  up  to 
some  ten  years  since,  it  was  habitual!}'  asserted  by  lecturers 
when  addressing  students,  and  by  writers  in  medical  journals, 
that  in  our  day,  syphilis  is  a  far  less  serious  evil  thiui  it  was  in 
days  gone  by.  Until  quite  recently  this  was  a  commonplace 
statement,  called  in  question  by  no  one  in  the  profession.  But 
just  as,  wliile  a  decrease  of  drunkenness  has  been  going  on, 
Tem])erance-fanatics  have  raised  an  increasing  outciy  for 
strenuous  measures  to  put  down  drunkenness;  so,  while  ve- 
nereal disease  has  been  diminishing  in  frequency  and  severity, 
certain  instrumentalities  and  agencies  have  created  a  belief 
that  rigorous  jueasures  are  required  to  check  its  progress. 
This  incongruity  would  by  itself  be  a  suflicient  proof  of  the 
extent  to  which,  on  the  one  side  or  the  other,  evidence  must 
liave  bcHMi  vitiated.  Wliat,  then,  shall  we  sa}'  of  the  incon- 
gruity on  finding  tbat  tbe  lirst  of  lhe.se  statements  lias  recently 
been  re])eated  l)y  many  of  tlie  highest  medical  autliorities,  as 
one  veiilied  l)y  their  exi)erience  ?  Here  are  some  of  their  tes- 
timonies. 

Tbe  ("bairnian  of  the  late  (Jovernment  Cojninission  for 
in(iuiring  into  the  treatment  and  prevention  of  syphilis,  Mr. 


OBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES.  77 

Skey,  Consulting-  Surgeon  to  St.  Bartholomew's  Hospital, 
gave  evidence  before  a  House  of  Lords'  Committee.  Refer- 
ring to  an  article  expressing  the  views  of  the  Association  for 
promoting  the  extension  of  the  Contagious  Diseases  Acts,  he 
said  it  was — 

"  largely  overcharged,"  and  "  coloured  too  highly."  "  The  disease  is 
by  no  means  so  common  or  universal,  I  may  say,  as  is  represented  in 
that  article,  .  .  .  and  I  have  had  an  opportunity  since  I  had  tlie 
summons  to  appear  here  to-day  of  communicating  with  several  lead- 
ing members  in  the  profession  at  the  College  of  Surgeons,  and  we  are 
all  of  the  same  opinion,  that  the  evil  is  not  so  large  by  any  means  as  it 
is  represented  by  the  association." 

Mr.  John  Simon,  F.R.S.,  for  thirty-five  years  a  hospital 
surgeon,  and  now  Medical  Officer  to  the  Privy  Council,  writes 
in  his  official  capacity — 

"  I  have  not  the  least  disposition  to  deny  that  venereal  affections 
constitute  a  real  and  great  evil  for  the  community ;  though  I  suspect 
that  very  exaggerated  opinions  are  current  as  to  their  diffusion  and 
malignity." 

By  the  late  Prof.  Syme  it  was  asserted  that — 

"  It  is  now  fully  ascertained  that  the  poison  of  the  present  day 
(true  syphilis)  does  not  give  rise  to  the  dreadful  consequences  which 
have  been  mentioned,  when  treated  without  mercury.  .  .  .  None 
of  the  serious  effects  that  used  to  be  so  much  dreaded  ever  appear,  and 
even  the  trivial  ones  just  noticed  comparatively  seldom  present  them- 
selves. We  must,  therefore,  conclude  either  that  the  virulence  of  the 
poison  is  worn  out,  or  that  the  effects  formerly  attributed  to  it  de- 
pended on  treatment."  ' 

The  British  and  Foreign  Medico-Chirurgical  Review, 
which  stands  far  higher  than  any  other  medical  journal,  and 
is  friendly  to  the  Acts  as  applied  to  military  and  naval  sta- 
tions, wi'ites  thus  : — • 

"  The  majority  of  those  who  have  undergone  the  disease,  thus  far 
[including  secondary  manifestations]  live  as  long  as  they  could  other- 
wise have  expected  to  live,  and  die  of  diseases  with  which  syphilis  has 
no  more  to  do  than  the  man  in  the  moon."  *  .  .  .  "  Surely  455 
persons  suffering  from  true  syphilis  in  one  form  or  another,  in  a  poor 
population  of  a  million  and  a  half  [less  than  1  in  3000]  .  .  .  can- 
not be  held  to  be  a  proportion  so  large  as  to  call  for  exceptional  action 
on  the  part  of  any  Government."  ^ 

Mr.  HoLnes  Coote,  F.R.C.S.,  Surgeon  and  Lectui-er  on  Sur- 
gery at  St.  Bartholomew's  Hospital,  says— 


Y8  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

"  It  is  a  lamentable  truth  that  the  troubles  which  respectable  hard- 
working married  women  of  the  working  class  undergo  are  more  trying 
to  the  health,  and  detrimental  to  the  looks,  than  any  of  the  irregu- 
larities of  the  harlot's  career." 

Again,  it  is  stated  by  Mr.  Byi'ne,  Surgeon  to  tlie  Dublin 
Lock  Hospital,  that  ''  there  is  not  nearly  so  much  syphilis  as 
there  used  to  be ; "  and,  after  describing  some  of  the  serious 
results  that  were  once  common,  he  adds : — "  You  will  not  see 
such  a  case  for  years — a  fact  that  no  medical  man  can  have 
failed  to  remark."  Mr.  W.  Burns  Thompson,  F.R.C.S.,  for 
ten  years  head  of  the  Edinburgh  Dispensary,  testifies  as 
follows : — 

"  1  have  had  good  opportunities  of  knowing  the  prevailing  dis- 
eases, and  I  can  only  say  that  the  representations  given  by  tlie  advo- 
cates of  these  Acts  are  to  me  perfectly  unintelligible ;  they  seem  to 
me  to  be  gross  exaggerations." 

Mr.  Surgeon-Major  Wyatt,  of  the  Coldstream  Guards, 
when  examined  by  the  Lords'  Committee,  stated  that  he 
quite  concurred  with  Mr.  Skey.  Answering  question  700.  he 
said : — 

"  The  class  of  syphilitic  diseases  which  we  see  are  of  a  very  mild 
character ;  and,  in  fact,  none  of  the  ravages  which  used  formerly  to 
be  committed  on  the  appearance  and  aspect  of  the  men  are  now  to  be 
seen.  .  •  .  It  is  an  undoubted  fact  that  in  this  country  and  in 
France  the  character  of  the  disease  is  much  diminished  in  intensity. — 
Question  708:  I  understand  you  to  say,  that  in  your  opinion  tlie 
venereal  disease  has  generally,  independent  of  the  Act,  become  more 
mitigated,  and  of  a  milder  type?  Ajiswer :  Yes;  that  is  the  experi- 
ence of  all  surgeons,  both  civil  and  military." 

Dr.  Druitt,  President  of  the  Association  of  the  Medical 
Ollicers  of  Health  for  London,  allirmed  ut  one  of  its  meet- 
ings— 

"that,  speaking  from  thirty-nine  years'  experience,  he  was  in  a  posi- 
tion to  say  that  cases  of  syphilis  in  London  were  rare  among  the 
ujidiile  and  better  classes,  and  soon  got  over." 

Even  Mr.  Acton,  a  specialist  to  whom  more  than  to  any 
other  man  the  Acts  arc  due,  admitted  before  tlie  Lords'  Com- 
mittee that  "the  di.sea.s(;  is  milder  than  it  was  formerly." 

And  then,  most  i7n])ortant  of  all,  is  tlie  testimony  of  Mr. 
Jonathan  Ifutchiiisoii,  who  is  recognized  as  the  liighest  au- 
thority on  inherited  syphilis,  aii<i  to  \vho.se  discoveries,  indeed, 


OBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES.  79 

the  identifications  of  syphilitic  taint  are  mainly  due.  Though 
thus  under  a  natural  bias  rather  to  over-estimate  than  under- 
estimate the  amc^unt  of  inherited  sypliilis,  Mr.  Hutchinson, 
while  editor  of  the  British  Medical  Journal,  wrote  : — 

"  Although  there  is  an  impression  to  the  contrary,  yet  recent  dis- 
coveries and  more  accurate  investigations,  so  far  from  extending  the 
domain  of  syphilis  as  a  cause  of  chronic  disease,  have  decidedly  tended 
to  limit  it  ...  .  although  we  have  admitted  as  positively  syphilitic 
certain  maladies  of  a  definite  kind  not  formerly  recognized,  we  have 

excluded  a  far  larger  number  which  were  once  under  suspicion 

We  can  identify  now  the  subject  of  severe  hereditary  taint  by  his  teeth 
and  physiognomy ;  but  those  who  believe  most  firmly  in  the  value  of 
these  signs,  believe  also  that  they  are  not  displayed  by  one  in  five  thou- 
sand of  our  population.^ 

Like  testimony  is  given  by  continental  surgeons,  among 
whom  it  was  long  ago  said  by  Ambrose  Pare,  that  the  disease 
"  is  evidently  becoming  milder  every  day ; "  and  by  Auzias 
Turenne,  that  "it  is  on  the  wane  all  over  Europe."  Astruc 
and  Diday  concur  in  this  statement.  And  the  latest  authority 
on  syphilis,  Lancereaux,  whose  work  is  so  highly  valued  that 
it  has  been  translated  by  the  Sydenham  Society,  asserts 
that  :— 

"  In  these  cases,  which  are  far  from  being  rare,  syphilis  is  but  an 
abortive  disease ;  slight  and  benignant,  it  does  not  leave  behind  any 
troublesome  trace  of  its  passage.  It  is  impossible  to  lay  too  much 
stress  upon  this  point.  At  the  present  day  especially,  when  syphilis 
still  inspires  exaggerated  fears,  it  should  be  known  that  this  disease 
becomes  dissipated  completely  in  a  great  number  of  cases  after  the  ces- 
sation of  the  cutaneous  eruptions,  and  perhaps  sometimes  even  with 
the  primary  lesion." ' 

It  will,  perhaps,  be  remarked  that  these  testimonies  of  med- 
ical men  who,  by  their  generally  high  position,  or  their  length- 
ened experience,  or  their  special  experience,  are  so  well  quali- 
fied to  judge,  are  selected  testimonies ;  and  against  them  will 
be  set  the  testimonies  of  Sir  James  Paget,  Sir  W.  Jenner,  and 
Mr.  Prescott  Hewett,  who  regard  the  evil  as  a  very  grave  one. 
Possibly  there  will  be  quoted  in  reply  an  authoritative  State- 
document,  which,  referring  to  the  views  of  the  thi'ee  gentle- 
men just  named  as  having  "  the  emphatic  concurrence  of  nu- 
merous practitioners,"  says  that  thoy  "arc  hardly  answered  by 
a  few  isolated  opinions  that  the  evil  has  been  exaggerated  " — a 
7 


80  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

somewhat  inadequate  description  of  the  above-quoted  testi- 
monies, considering  not  only  the  general  weight  of  the  names, 
but  also  the  weight  of  sundry  of  them  as  those  of  specialists. 
To  gather  accurately  the  consensus  of  medical  opinion  wovild 
be  impracticable  without  polling  the  whole  body  of  physicians 
and  surgeons ;  but  we  have  a  means  of  judging  which  view 
most  truly  meets  with  "  the  emphatic  concurrence  of  ntimer- 
ous  practitioners '' :  that,  namely,  of  taking  a  local  group  of 
medical  men.  Out  of  fifty-eight  physicians  and  surgeons  re- 
siding in  Nottingham  and  its  subm*bs,  fifty-four  have  put  their 
signatures  to  a  public  statement  that  syphilis  is  "  very  much 
diminished  in  frequency,  and  so  much  milder  in  form  that  we 
can  scarcely  recognize  it  as  the  disease  described  by  our  fore- 
fathers." And  among  these  are  the  medical  men  occupying 
nearly  all  the  official  medical  positions  in  the  town — Senior 
Physician  to  the  General  Hospital,  Honorary  Sui'geon  ditto, 
Surgeons  to  the  Jail,  to  the  General  Dispensary,  to  the  Free 
Hospital,  to  the  Union  Hospital,  to  the  Lock  Hospital  (four  in 
number).  Medical  Ofiicers  to  the  Board  of  Health,  to  the 
Union,  to  the  County  Asylum,  &c.,  &c.  Even  while  I  write 
there  comes  to  me  kindred  evidence  in  the  shape  of  a  letter 
published  in  the  British  Medical  Journal  for  20th  July,  1872, 
by  Dr.  Carter,  Honorary  Physician  to  the  Liverpool  Southern 
Hospital,  who  states  that,  after  several  debates  at  the  Liver- 
pool Medical  Institution,  "  a  form  of  petition  strongly  condem- 
natory of  the  Acts  was  written  out  by  myself,  and  ....  in 
a  few  days  one  hundred  and  eight  signatures  [of  medical  men] 
were  obtiiined."  Meanwhile,  he  adds,  "earnest  efforts  were 
being  made  by  a  number  of  gentlemen  to  procure  medical  sig- 
natures to  the  petition  in  favour  of  the  Acts  known  as  the 
'  London  Memorial,' — efforts  which  resulted  in  twenty-Jiine 
signatures  only." 

Yet  notwithstiinding  this  testimony,  great  in  quantity  and 
much  of  it  of  the  liiglicst  quality,  it  has  been  ])ossible  so  to 
presfMit  the  evidence  as  U)  ))roduce  in  the  pul)lic  mind,  and  in 
the  Legislature,  tlie  impression  that  perenii)tory  measures  for 
dealing  with  a  S])reading  pest  are  indispensable.  As  lately 
writes  a  Mt'inber  of  Parliament,^"  We  were  a.ssured,  on  what 
appeared  >ui<'XC('])fi()nal)l('  U'stiniony,  that  a  tiTril)Ie  constitu- 
tional disease  was  undermining  the  health  and  vigour  of  the 


OBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES,  81 

nation,  and  especially  destroying  innocent  women  and  chil- 
dren." 

And  then  note  the  startling  circumstance  that  while  so 
erroneous  a  conception  of  the  facts  may  be  spread  abroad, 
there  may,  by  the  consequent  alarm,  be  produced  a  blindness 
to  facts  of  the  most  unquestionable  kind,  established  by  the 
ever-accumulating  experiences  of  successive  generations.  Un- 
til quite  recently,  our  forms  of  judicial  procedure  embodied 
the  principle  that  some  overt  injury  must  be  committed  before 
legal  instrumentalities  can  be  brought  into  play;  and  con- 
formity to  this  principle  was  in  past  times  gi'adually  brought 
about  by  efforts  to  avoid  the  terrific  evils  that  otherwise  arose. 
As  a  Professor  of  Jm-isprudence  reminds  us,  "the  object  of 
the  whole  complicated  system  of  checks  and  guards  provided 
by  English  law,  and  secured  by  a  long  train  of  constitutional 
conflicts,  has  been  to  prevent  an  innocent  man  being  even  mo- 
mentarily treated  as  a  thief,  a  murderer,  or  other  criminal,  on 
the  mere  alleged  or  real  suspicion  of  a  policeman."  Yet  now, 
in  the  state  of  groundless  fright  that  has  been  got  up,  "  the 
concern  hitherto  exhibited  by  the  Legislature  for  the  personal 
liberty  of  the  meanest  citizen  has  been  needlessly  and  reck- 
lessly lost  sight  of."  *  It  is  an  a  priori  inference  from  human 
nature  that  irresponsible  power  is  sure,  on  the  average  of  cases, 
to  be  grossly  abused.  The  histories  of  all  nations,  through  all 
times,  teem  with  proofs  that  irresponsible  power  has  been 
grossly  abused.  The  growth  of  representative  governments  is 
the  growth  of  arrangements  made  to  prevent  the  gross  abuse 
of  irresponsible  power.  Each  of  our  political  struggles,  end- 
ing in  a  further  development  of  free  institutions,  has  been 
made  to  put  an  end  to  some  particular  gross  abuse  of  irrespon- 
sible power.  Yet  the  facts  thrust  upon  us  by  our  daily  expe- 
riences of  men,  verifying  the  experiences  of  the  whole  human 
race  throughout  the  past,  are  now  tacitly  denied;  and  it  is 
tacitly  asserted  that  irresponsible  power  will  not  be  grossly 
abused.  And  all  because  of  a  manufactured  panic  about  a  de- 
creasing disease,  which  kills  not  one-fifteenth  of  the  number 
killed  by  scarlet  fever,  and  which  takes  ten  years  to  destroy  as 
many  as  diarrhoea  destroys  in  one  year. 

See,  then,  what  we  have  to  guard  against  in  collecting  so- 
ciological data — even  data  concerning  the  present,  and,  still 


82  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

more,  data  concerning  the  past.  For  testimonies  that  come 
down  to  us  respecting  bygone  social  states,  political,  religious, 
judicial,  physical,  moral,  &c.,  and  respecting  the  actions  of 
particular'  causes  on  those  social  states,  have  been  liable  to 
perversions  not  simply  as  great,  but  greater ;  since  while  the 
regard  for  truth  was  less,  there  was  moi-e  readiness  to  accept 
improved  statements. 

Even  where  deliberate  measures  ai'e  taken  to  obtain  valid 
evidence  on  any  political  or  social  question  raised,  by  sum- 
moning witnesses  of  all  classes  and  interests,  there  is  difficulty 
in  £:ettinjr  at  the  trvxth  ;  because  the  circumstances  of  the  in- 
quiry  tend  of  themselves  to  bring  into  sight  some  kinds  of 
evidence,  and  to  keep  out  of  sight  other  kinds.  In  illustra- 
tion may  be  quoted  the  following  statement  of  Lord  Lincoln 
on  making  his  motion  concerning  the  enclosures  of  com- 
mons : — 

"  This  I  know,  that  in  nineteen  cases  out  of  twenty,  committees 
sitting  in  this  House  on  private  bills  neglected  the  rights  of  the  poor. 
I  do  not  say  that  they  wilfully  neglected  those  rights — far  from  it ; 
but  this  I  affirm,  that  they  were  neglected  in  consequence  of  the  com- 
mittees being  permitted  to  remain  in  ignorance  of  the  rights  of  the 
poor  man,  because  by  reason  of  his  very  poverty  he  is  unable  to  come 
up  to  London  to  fee  counsel,  to  procure  witnesses,  and  to  urge  his 
claims  before  a  committee  of  this  House." — Ilansard,  1  May,  1845.* 

Many  influences  of  a  different  order,  but  similarly  tending 
to  exclude  particular  classes  of  facts  pertiiiejit  to  an  inquiry, 
come  into  play.  Given  a  question  at  issue,  and  it  will  very 
probably  liappen  tbat  witnesses  on  the  one  side  may,  by  evi- 
dence of  a  cert^iin  nature,  endanger  a  system  oi  wbich  (liey 
deiM'iul  for  the  wliole  or  for  part  of  their  livxdihood ;  and  by 
evidence  of  an  opposite  nature  may  preserve  it.  By  one  kind 
of  testimony  they  may  offend  their  superiors  and  risk  their 
promotion:  doing  the  vevei-se  by  another  kind.  Moreover, 
witness(!s  not  tlius  directly  interested  are  lialde  to  be  indirectly 
swayed  by  the  thouglit  fliat  to  name  certain  facts  they  know 
will  bring  on  them  the  ill  will  of  imjun'tant  jx'rsons  in  their 
locality — a  s(!rious  <'onsideralion  in  a  ])rovincial  town.  And 
w'.iile  sncli  influences  sfronj^-ly  <<'n(l  fo  bring  out  cvidtMice,  sny 
in  sui)port  of  .some  establislied  organization,  tiien;  may  very 


OBJECTIVE   DIFFICULTIES.  83 

possibly,  and,  indeed,  very  probably,  be  no  organized  adverse 
interest  with  abundant  resources  which  busies  itself  to  bring 
out  a  contrary  class  of  facts — no  occupation  in  danger,  no  pro- 
motion to  be  had,  no  applause  to  be  gained,  no  odium  to  be 
escaped.  The  reverse  may  happen  :  there  may  be  positive  sac- 
rifices serious  in  amount  to  be  made  before  such  contrary  class 
of  facts  can  be  brought  to  light.  And  thus  it  may  result  that, 
perfectly  open  and  fair  as  the  inquiry  seems,  the  circumstances 
will  insure  a  one-sided  representation. 

A  familiar  optical  illusion  well  illustrates  the  nature  of 
these  illusions  which  often  deceive  sociological  inquirers. 
When  standing  by  a  lake-side  in  the  moonlight,  you  see 
stretching  over  the  rippled  surface  towards  the  moon,  a  bar  of 
light  which,  as  shown  by  its  nearer  part,  consists  of  flashes 
from  the  sides  of  separate  wavelets.  You  walk,  and  the  bar 
of  light  seems  to  go  with  you.  There  are,  even  among  the 
educated  classes,  many  who  suppose  that  this  bar  of  light  has 
an  objective  existence,  and  who  believe  that  it  really  moves  as 
the  observer  moves— occasionally,  indeed,  as  I  can  testify,  ex- 
pressing surprise  at  the  fact.  But,  apart  from  the  observer 
there  exists  no  such  bar  of  light ;  nor  when  the  observer  moves 
is  there  any  movement  of  this  line  of  glittering  wavelets.  All 
over  the  dark  part  of  the  surface  the  undulations  are  just  as 
bright  with  moonlight  as  those  he  sees ;  but  the  light  reflected 
from  them  does  not  reach  his  eyes.  Thus,  though  there  seems  to 
be  a  lighting  of  some  wavelets  and  not  of  the  rest,  and  though, 
as  the  observer  moves,  other  wavelets  seem  to  become  lighted 
that  were  not  lighted  before,  yet  both  these  are  utterly  false 
seemings.  The  simple  fact  is,  that  his  position  in  relation  to 
certain  wavelets  brings  into  view  their  reflections  of  the 
moon's  light,  while  it  keeps  out  of  view  the  like  reflections 
from  all  other  wavelets. 

Sociological  evidence  is  largely  vitiated  by  illusions  thus 
caused.  Habitually  the  relations  of  observers  to  the  facts  are 
such  as  make  visible  the  special,  and  exceptional,  and  sensa- 
tional, and  leave  invisible  the  common-place  and  uninterest- 
ing, which  foi*m  the  great  body  of  the  facts.  And  this,  which 
is  a  general  cause  of  deceptive  appearances,  is  variously  aided 
by  those  more  special  causes  above  indicated  ;  which  conspire 
to    make   the    media    through    vrhicli    the    facts    are    seen, 


84  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

transparent  in  respect  of    some  and    opaque  in  respect  of 
others. 

Again,  very  serious  perversions  of  evidence  result  from 
the  unconscious  confounding  of  observation  with  inference. 
Everywhere,  a  fertile  source  of  error  is  the  putting  down  as 
something  perceived  what  is  really  a  conclusion  drawn  from 
something  perceived  ;  and  this  is  a  more  than  usually  fertile 
source  of  error  in  Sociology.    Here  is  an  instance. 

A  few  years  ago  Dr.  Stark  published  the  results  of  com- 
parisons he  had  made  between  the  rates  of  mortality  among 
the  married  and  among  the  celibate :  showing,  as  it  seemed, 
the  greater  healthfulness  of  married  life.  Some  criticisms 
made  on  his  argument  did  not  seriously  shake  it ;  and  he  has 
been  since  referred  to  as  having  conclusively  proved  the 
alleged  relation.  More  recently  I  have  seen  quoted  from  the 
Medical  Press  and  Circular,  the  following  summary  of  re- 
sults supposed  to  tell  the  same  tale  : — 

"  M.  Bertillon  has  made  a  communication  on  this  subject  ('  The 
Influence  of  Marriage  ')  to  the  Brussels  Academy  of  Medicine,  which 
has  been  pubhshed  in  the  Revue  Sciejitifique.  From  25  to  30  years  of 
age  the  mortality  per  1000  in  France  amounts  to  6'2  in  married  men, 
10*2  in  bachelors,  and  21-8  in  widows.  In  Brussels  the  mortality  of 
married  women  is  9  per  1000,  girls  the  same,  and  widows  as  high  as 
16-9,  In  Belgium  from  7  per  1000  among  married  men.  the  number 
rises  to  8-5  in  bachelors,  and  24-6  in  widows.  The  proportion  is  the 
same  in  Holland.  From  8-2  in  married  men,  it  rises  to  11-7  in  bache- 
lors, and  lG-9  in  widowers,  or  12-8  among  married  women,  8-5  in  spin- 
sters, and  13"8  in  widows.  The  result  of  all  the  calculations  is  that 
from  25  to  30  years  of  age  the  mortality  per  1000  is  4  in  married  men, 
10-4  in  bachelors,  and  22  in  widows.  This  beneficial  influence  of  mar- 
riage is  manifested  at  all  ages,  being  always  more  strongly  marked  in 
men  than  in  women." 

I  will  not  dwell  on  the  fallacy  of  the  above  conclusions  as  re- 
ferring to  the  relative  mortality  of  widows— a  fallacy  suffi- 
ciently obvious  to  any  one  who  thinks  awhile.  I  will  confine 
myself  to  the  loss-consiiicuous  fallacy  in  the  comparison  be- 
tween the  niorUilitics  of  marriod  .and  celibate,  fallen  into  by 
M.  Bertillon  jus  well  as  by  Dr.  SUirk.  Clearly  as  tlioir  figures 
seem  to  furnish  proof  of  .some  direct  causal  relation  between 


OBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES.  85 

marriage  and  longevity,  they  really  furnish  no  proof  what- 
ever. There  may  be  such  a  relation  ;  biit  the  evidence  assigned 
forms  no  warrant  for  inferring  it. 

We  have  but  to  consider  the  circumstances  which  in  many 
cases  determine  marriage,  and  those  which  in  other  cases  pre- 
vent marriage,  to  see  that  the  connexion  wliich  the  figures 
apparently  imply  is  not  the  real  connexion.  Where  attach- 
ments exist  what  most  frequently  decides  the  question  for  or 
against  marriage  ?  The  possession  of  adequate  means.  Though 
some  improvidently  marry  without  means,  yet  it  is  undeniable 
that  in  many  instances  marriage  is  delayed  by  the  man,  or  for- 
bidden by  the  parents,  or  not  assented  to  by  the  woman,  until 
there  is  reasonable  evidence  of  ability  to  meet  the  responsi- 
bilities. Now  of  men  whose  marriages  depend  on  getting  the 
needful  incomes,  which  are  the  most  likely  to  get  the  needful 
incomes  ?  The  best,  physically  and  mentally — the  strong, 
the  intellectually  capable,  the  morally  well-balanced.  Often 
bodily  vigour  achieves  a  success,  and  therefore  a  revenue, 
which  bodily  weakness,  unable  to  bear  the  stress  of  competi- 
tion, cannot  achieve.  Often  superior  intelligence  brings  pro- 
motion and  increase  of  salary,  while  stupidity  lags  behind  in 
ill-paid  posts.  Often  caution,  self-control,  and  a  far-seeing 
sacrifice  of  present  to  future,  secure  remunerative  offices  that 
are  never  given  to  the  impulsive  or  the  reckless.  But  what 
are  the  effects  of  bodily  vigour,  of  intelligence,  of  prudence, 
on  longevity ;  when  compared  with  the  effects  of  feebleness, 
of  stupidity,  of  deficient  self-control  ?  Obviously,  the  first 
further  the  maintenance  of  life,  and  the  second  tend  towards 
premature  death.  That  is,  the  qualities  which,  on  the  average 
of  cases,  give  a  man  an  advantage  in  gaining  the  means  of 
marrying,  are  the  qualities  which  make  him  likely  to  be  a 
long-liver ;  and  conversely. 

There  is  even  a  more  direct  relation  of  the  same  general 
nature.  In  all  creatures  of  high  type,  it  is  only  when  indi- 
vidual growth  and  development  are  nearly  complete,  that  the 
production  of  new  individuals  becomes  possible ;  and  the 
power  of  producing  and  bringing  up  new  individuals,  is 
measured  by  the  amount  of  vital  power  in  excess  of  that  need- 
ful for  self-maintenance.  The  reproductive  instincts,  ajid  all 
their  accompanying  emotions,  become  dominant  when  the  de- 


S6  THE  STL'DY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

mands  for  individual  evolution  are  diminishing,  and  there  is 
arising  a  surplus  of  energy  which  makes  possible  the  rearing 
of  offspring  as  well  as  the  preservation  of  self ;  and,  speaking 
generally,  these  instincts  and  emotions  are  strong  in  propor- 
tion as  this  surplus  vital  energy  is  great.  But  to  have  a  large 
surplus  of  vital  energy  implies  a  good  organization — an  or- 
ganization likely  to  last  long.  So  that,  in  fact,  the  superiority 
oi  phy.sique  which  is  accompanied  by  strength  of  the  instincts 
and  emotions  causing  raarriage,  is  a  superiority  of  physique 
also  conducive  to  longevity. 

One  further  influence  tells  in  the  same  direction.  Mar- 
riage is  not  altogether  determined  by  the  desh-es  of  men ;  it  is 
determined  in  part  by  the  pi*eferences  of  women.  Other 
things  equal,  women  are  attracted  towards  men  of  power — 
physical,  emotional,  intellectual ;  and  obviously  their  freedom 
of  choice  leads  them  in  many  cases  to  refuse  infei'ior  samples 
of  men :  especially  the  malfoi'med,  the  diseased,  and  those 
who  are  ill-developed,  physically  and  mentally.  So  that,  in 
so  far  as  marriage  is  determined  by  female  selection,  the  aver- 
age result  on  men  is  that  while  the  best  easily  get  wives,  a 
certain  proportion  of  the  worst  are  left  without  wives.  This 
influence,  therefore,  joins  in  bringing  into  the  ranks  of  married 
men  those  most  likely  to  be  long-lived,  and  keeping  in  bache- 
lorhood tliose  least  likely  to  be  long-lived. 

In  three  ways,  then,  does  that  superiority  of  organization 
which  conduces  to  long  life,  also  conduce  to  marriage.  It  is 
normally  accompanied  by  a  predominance  of  the  instincts 
and  emotions  prompting  marriage ;  there  goes  along  with  it 
that  power  which  cau  secure  the  means  of  making  marriage 
practical>]e ;  and  it  increases  the  probability  of  success  in 
courtsliip.  The  figures  given  afford  no  proof  that  marriage 
and  longevity  are  cause  and  consequence ;  but  they  simply 
verify  the  iiifercnce  which  miglit  be  drawni  a  priori,  that 
marriagi^  and  longevity  are  concomitant  results  of  the  same 
cause. 

This  striking  instance  of  the  way  in  wliicli  inference 
may  be  niisUiken  for  fact,  will  serve  as  a  warning  against  an- 
otln-r  of  the  dangers  that  await  ns  in  dealing  with  soeiohtgical 
data.  Statistics  having  shown  that  married  men  live  long(>r 
than  single   men,  it  seems  an    irresistible   implication   that 


OBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES.  87 

married  life  is  healthier  than  single  life.  And  yet  we  see  that 
the  implication  is  not  at  all  irresistible :  though  such  a  con- 
nexion may  exist,  it  is  not  demonstrated  by  the  evidence  as- 
signed. Judge,  then,  how  difficult  it  must  be,  among  social 
phenomena  that  have  more  entangled  dependencies,  to  dis- 
tinguish between  the  seeming  relations  and  the  real  relations. 

Once  more,  we  are  liable  to  be  led  away  by  superficial, 
trivial  facts,  from  the  deep-seated  and  really-important  facts 
they  indicate.  Always  the  details  of  social  life,  the  interest- 
ing events,  the  curious  things  which  serve  for  gossip,  will,  if 
we  allow  them,  hide  from  us  the  vital  connexions  and  the 
vital  actions  underneath.  Every  social  phenomenon  results 
from  an  immense  aggregate  of  general  and  special  causes ; 
and  we  may  either  take  the  phenomenon  itself  as  intrinsically 
momentous,  or  may  take  it  along  with  other  phenomena,  as 
indicating  some  inconspicuous  truth  of  real  significance.  Let 
us  contrast  the  two  courses. 

Some  months  ago  a  correspondent  of  the  Times,  wi'iting 
from  Calcutta,  said  : — 

"  The  Calcutta  University  examinations  of  any  year  would  supply 
curious  material  for  reflection  on  the  value  of  our  educational  sys- 
tems. The  prose  test  in  the  entrance  examination  this  year  inchides 
Ivanhoe.  Here  are  a  few  of  the  answers  which  I  have  picked  up. 
The  spelling  is  bad.  but  that  I  have  not  cared  to  give : — 

*'  Question  : — '  Dapper  man  ?  '  (Answer  1.)  '  Man  of  superfluous 
knowledge.'  (A.  2.)  *  Mad.'  (Q.)  'Democrat?'  (A.  1.)  'Petticoat 
Government'  (A.  2.)  'Witchcraft.'  (A.  3.)  'Half-turning  of  the 
horse.'  (Q.)  '  Babylonish  jargon  ?  '  (A.  1.)  *  A  vessel  made  at  Baby- 
lon.' (A.  2.)  '  A  kind  of  drink  made  at  Jerusalem.'  (A.  3.)  '  A  kind 
of  coat  worn  by  Babylonians.'  (Q.)  'Lay  brother?'  (A.  1.)  'A 
bishop.'  (A.  2.)  '  A  step-brother.'  (A.  8.)  '  A  scholar  of  the  same 
godfather.'  (Q.)  'Sumpter  mule?'  (A.)  'A  stubborn  Jew.'  (Q.) 
♦  Bilious-looking  fellow  ? '  (A.  1.)  '  A  man  of  strict  character.'  (A.  2.) 
'  A  person  having  a  nose  like  the  bill  of  an  eagle.'  (Q.)  '  Cloister  ? ' 
(A.)  '  A  kind  of  shell.'  (Q.)  'Tavern  politicians?'  (A.  1.)  'Politi- 
cians in  charge  of  the  alehouse.'  (A.  2.)  '  Mere  vulgars.'  (A.  3.) 
'  ]Managers  of  the  priestly  church.'  (Q.)  '  A  pair  of  cast-off  galli- 
gaskins?'   (A.)    'Two  gallons  of  wine.' 

The  fact  hei^e  drawn  attention  to  as  significant,  is,  that  these 
Hindu  youths,  during  their  matxiculation  examination,  be' 


88  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

trayed  so  much  iornorance  of  the  meaning  of  words  and  ex- 
pressions contained  in  an  English  work  they  had  read.  And 
the  intended  implication  appeal's  to  be  that  they  were  proved 
unfit  to  begin  their  college  careers.  If,  now,  instead  of  accept- 
ing that  which  is  presented  to  us,  we  look  a  little  below  it, 
that  which  may  strike  us  is  the  amazing  folly  of  an  examiner 
who  proposes  to  test  the  fitness  of  youths  for  commencing 
their  higher  education,  by  seeing  how  much  they  know  of  the 
technical  terms,  cant-phrases,  slang,  and  even  extinct  slang, 
talked  by  the  people  of  another  nation.  Instead  of  the  unfit- 
ness of  the  boys,  which  is  pointed  out  to  us,  we  may  see  rather 
the  unfitness  of  those  concerned  in  educating  them. 

If,  again,  not  dwelling  on  the  particular  fact  underlying 
the  one  offered  to  our  notice,  we  consider  it  along  with  others 
of  the  same  class,  our  attention  is  arrested  by  the  general  fact 
that  examinei*s,  and  especially  those  appointed  under  recent 
systems  of  administi-ation,  habitually  put  questions  of  which 
a  large  proportion  are  utterly  inappropriate.  As  I  learn  from 
his  son,  one  of  our  judges  not  long  since  found  himself  un- 
able to  answer  an  examination-paper  that  had  been  laid  before 
law-students.  A  well-known  Greek  scholar,  editor  of  a  Greek 
play,  who  was  appointed  examiner,  found  that  the  examina- 
tion-paper set  by  his  predecessor  was  too  difficult  for  him. 
Mr.  Froude,  in  his  inaugural  address  at  St.  Andrews,  describ- 
ing a  paper  set  by  an  examiner  in  English  history,  said,  "I 
could  myself  have  answered  two  questions  out  of  a  dozen." 
And  I  learn  from  Mr.  G.  H.  Lewes  that  he  could  not  give  re- 
plies to  the  questions  on  English  literature  which  the  Civil 
Service  examiners  had  put  to  his  son.  Joining  Avliich  testi- 
monies witli  kindred  ones  coming  from  students  and  pro- 
fes.sors  on  all  sides,  we  find  the  really-noteworthy  thing  to  be 
that  examiners,  instead  of  setting  questions  fit  for  students,  set 
questions  wliich  make  manifest  their  own  extensive  learning. 
Esi)ecially  if  tliey  are  young,  and  have  reputations  to  n)uke  or 
to  justify,  tljey  seize  tlie  occasion  for  disj)Iaying  their  erudi- 
tion, regardle.ss  of  the  interests  of  those  they  examine. 

If  we  look  tlirough  tliis  more  significant  and  general  fact 
for  the  still  dcciM-r  fact  it  ^rows  out  of,  tliere  arises  hofon*  us 
tlnMiuestion — Who  cxuniines  the  examiners?  How  happens 
it  tliut  men  competent  in  their  special  knowledge,  but  so  in- 


OBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES.  89 

competent  in  their  general  judgment,  should  occupy  the  places 
they  do?  This  prevailing  faultiness  of  the  examiners  shows 
conclusively  that  the  administration  is  faulty  at  its  centre. 
Somewhere  or  other,  the  power  of  ultimate  decision  is  exer- 
cised by  those  who  are  unfit  to  exercise  it.  If  the  examiners 
of  the  examiners  were  set  to  fill  up  an  examination-paper 
which  had  for  its  subject  the  right  conduct  of  examinations, 
and  the  proper  qualifications  for  examiners,  there  would  come 
out  very  unsatisfactory  answers. 

Having  seen  through  the  small  details  and  the  wider  facts 
down  to  these  deeper  facts,  we  may,  on  contemplating  them, 
perceive  that  these,  too,  are  not  the  deepest  or  most  significant. 
It  becomes  clear  that  those  having  supreme  authority  suppose, 
as  men  in  general  do,  that  the  sole  essential  thing  for  a 
teacher  or  examiner  is  complete  knowledge  of  that  which  he 
has  to  teach,  or  respecting  which  he  has  to  examine.  Whereas 
a  co-essential  thing  is  a  knowledge  of  Psychology ;  and  espe- 
cially that  pai't  of  Psychology  which  deals  with  the  evolution 
of  the  faculties.  Unless,  either  by  special  study  or  by  daily 
observation  and  quick  insight,  he  has  gained  an  approximately- 
true  conception  of  how  minds  perceive,  and  reflect,  and  gen- 
eralize, and  by  what  processes  their  ideas  grow  from  concrete 
to  abstract,  and  from  simple  to  complex,  no  one  is  competent 
to  give  lessons  that  will  efPectually  teach,  or  to  ask  ques- 
tions which  will  effectually  measure  the  efficiency  of  teach- 
ing. Further,  it  becomes  manifest  that,  in  common  with 
the  public,  those  in  authority  assume  that  the  goodness  of 
education  is  to  be  tested  by  the  quantity  of  knowledge  ac- 
quired. "Whereas  it  is  to  be  much  more  truly  tested  by  the 
capacity  for  using  knowledge — by  the  extent  to  which  the 
knowledge  gained  has  been  turned  into  faculty,  so  as  to  be 
available  both  for  the  purposes  of  life  and  for  the  purposes  of 
independent  investigation.  Though  there  is  a  growing  con- 
sciousness that  a  mass  of  unorganized  information  is,  after  all, 
of  little  value,  and  that  there  is  more  value  in  less  informa- 
tion well-organized,  yet  the  significant  triith  is  that  this  con- 
sciousness has  not  got  itself  officially  embodied ;  and  that  our 
educational  administration  is  working,  and  will  long  continue 
to  work,  in  pursuance  of  a  crude  and  out-worn  belief. 

As  here,  then,  so  in  other  cases  meeting  us  in  the  present 


90  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

and  all  through  the  past,  we  have  to  contend  with  the  diffi- 
culty that  the  greater  part  of  the  evidence  supplied  to  us  as  of 
chief  interest  and  importance,  is  of  value  only  for  what  it  in- 
dicates. We  have  to  I'esist  the  temptation  to  dwell  on  those 
trivialities  which  make  up  nine-tenths  of  our  records  and  his- 
tories ;  and  which  are  worthy  of  attention  solely  because  of 
the  things  they  indirectly  imply  or  the  things  tacitly  asserted 
along  with  them. 

Beyond  those  vitiations  of  evidence  due  to  random  obser- 
vations, to  the  subjective  states  of  the  observers,  to  their  en- 
thusiasms, or  preposessions,  or  self-interests — beyond  those 
arising  from  the  general  tendency  to  set  down  as  a  fact  ob- 
served what  is  really  an  inference  from  an  observation,  and 
also  those  arising  from  the  general  tendency  to  admit  the  dis- 
section by  which  small  surface  results  are  traced  to  large  in- 
terior causes ;  there  come  those  vitiations  of  evidence  conse- 
quent on  its  distribution  in  Space.  Of  whatever  class,  political, 
moral,  religious,  commercial,  &c.,  may  be  the  phenomena  we 
have  to  consider,  a  society  presents  them  in  so  diffused  and 
mviltitudinous  a  way,  and  under  such  various  relations  to  us, 
that  the  conceptions  we  can  frame  are  at  best  extremely  inade- 
quate. 

Consider  how  impossible  it  is  truly  to  conceive  so  rela- 
tively-simple a  thing  as  the  territory  which  a  society  covers. 
Even  by  the  aid  of  maps,  geographical  and  geological,  slowly 
elaborated  by  multitudes  of  surveyors — even  by  the  aid  of  de- 
scriptions of  towns,  counties,  mountainous  and  rural  districts 
— even  by  the  aid  of  such  personal  examinations  as  we  have 
made  here  and  there  in  journeys  during  life ;  we  can  reach 
nothing  approaching  to  a  true  idea  of  the  actual  surface — 
arable,  gi'a.ss-covered,  wooded  ;  Hat,  undulating,  rocky  ;  drained 
by  rills,  brooks,  and  slow  rivers;  si)iinkl((l  with  cottages, 
farm.s,  villa.s,  cities.  Imagination  simply  raml)les  liillior  and 
tliitlier,  and  fails  utterly  to  frame  an  adequate  tliought  of  the 
whole,  llow  IIh'Ii  shall  we  frame  an  ad(M]uate  Ihouglit  of  a 
diffused  moral  fcrlinLf,  <>f  an  intellectual  state,  of  a  commer- 
cial activity,  pervading  this  territory ;  miaided  by  maps,  and 
aided  only  by  tlici  careless  slalements  of  careless  observers  ? 
Kesi)ectiug  ino.st  of  the  plienom(,'na,  aa  displayed  by  a  nation 


OBJECTIVE   DIFFICULTIES.  91 

at  large,  only  dim  apprehensions  are  possible ;  and  how  un- 
trustwortliy  they  are,  is  shown  by  every  parliamentary  de- 
bate, by  every  day's  newspapers,  and  by  every  evening's  con- 
versations ;  whicli  severally  disclose  quite  conflicting  estimates. 

See  how  various  are  the  statements  made  respecting  any 
nation  in  its  character  and  actions  by  each  traveller  visiting 
it.  There  is  a  story,  apt  if  not  true,  of  a  Frenchman  who, 
having  been  three  weeks  here,  i^roposed  to  -write  a  book  on 
England ;  who,  after  three  months,  found  that  he  was  not 
quite  ready ;  and  who,  after  tln-ee  years,  concluded  that  he 
knew  nothing  about  it.  And  every  one  who  looks  back  and 
compares  his  early  impressions  respecting  states  of  things  in 
his  own  society  with  the  impressions  he  now  has,  will  see  how 
erroneous  were  the  beliefs  once  so  decided,  and  how  probable 
it  is  that  even  his  revised  beliefs  are  but  partially  true.  On 
remembering  how  -wrong  he  was  in  his  pre-conceptions  of  the 
people  and  the  life  in  some  unvisited  irart  of  the  kingdom — on 
remembering  how  different  from  those  he  had  imagined,  were 
the  characters  he  actually  found  in  certain  alien  classes  and 
along  with  certain  alien  creeds  ;  he  will  see  how  greatly  this 
wide  diffusion  of  social  facts  impedes  true  appreciation  of 
them. 

Moreover,  there  are  illusions  consequent  on  what  we  may 
call  moral  perspective,  which  we  do  not  habitually  correct  in 
thought,  as  we  correct  in  perception  the  illusions  of  physical 
perspective.  A  small  object  close  to,  occupies  a  larger  visual 
area  than  a  mountain  afar  off  ;  but  here  our  well-organized  ex- 
periences enable  us  instantly  to  rectify  a  false  inference  sug- 
gested by  the  subtended  angles.  No  such  prompt  rectification 
for  tlie  perspective  is  made  in  sociological  observations.  A 
small  event  next  door,  producing  a  larger  impression  than  a 
great  event  in  another  country,  is  over-estimated.  Conclu- 
sions prematurely  drawn  from  social  experiences  daily  occur- 
ring around  us,  are  difficult  to  displace  by  clear  proofs  that 
elsewhere  wider  social  experiences  point  ty  opposite  conclu- 
sions. 

A  further  great  difficulty  to  which  we  are  thus  introduced 
is,  that  the  comparisons  by  which  alone  we  can  finally  estab- 
lish relations  of  cause  and  effect  among  social  phenomena,  can 
rarely  be  made  between  cases  in  all  respects  fit  for  comparison. 


92  THE  STUDY   OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

Every  society  diflFers  specifically,  if  not  generically,  from  every 
other.  Hence  it  is  a  peculiarity  of  the  Social  Science  that 
parallels  drawn  between  different  societies,  do  not  afford 
gi'ounds  for  decided  conclusions — will  not,  for  instance,  show 
us  with  certainty,  what  is  an  essential  phenomenon  in  a  given 
society  and  what  is  a  non-essential  one.  Biology  deals  with 
numei'ous  individuals  of  a  species,  and  with  many  species  of  a 
genus,  and  by  comparing  them  can  see  what  traits  ai"e  specifi- 
cally constant  and  what  generically  constant;  and  the  like 
holtls  more  or  less  with  the  other  concrete  sciences.  But  com- 
parisons between  societies,  among  which  we  may  almost  say 
that  each  individual  is  a  species  by  itself,  yield  much  less  defi- 
nite results  :  the  necessary  characters  are  not  thus  readily  dis- 
tinguishable from  the  accidental  characters. 

So  that  even  supposing  we  have  perfectly-valid  data  for  our 
sociological  generalizations,  thei'e  still  lies  before  us  the  difli- 
culty  that  these  data  are,  in  many  cases,  so  multitudinous  and 
diffused  that  we  cannot  adequately  consolidate  them  into  true 
conceptions ;  the  additional  difficulty  that  the  moral  perspec- 
tive under  which  they  are  presented,  can  scarcely  ever  be  so 
allowed  for  as  to  secure  true  ideas  of  proportions  ;  and  the  fur- 
ther difficulty  that  comparisons  of  our  vague  and  incorrect 
conceptions  concerning  one  society  with  our  kindred  concep- 
tions concerning  another  society,  have  always  to  be  taken  with 
the  qualification  that  the  comparisons  are  only  partially  justi- 
fiable, because  the  compared  things  are  only  partially  alike  in 
their  other  traits. 

An  objective  difficulty,  even  greater  still,  wliich  the  Social 
Scieiice  jiresonts,  arises  from  the  distribution  of  its  facts  in 
Time.  Those  who  look  on  a  society  as  either  superuaturally 
created  or  created  by  Acts  of  Parliament,  and  who  conse- 
quently consider  successive  stages  of  its  existence  as  having 
no  necessary  d(>]K'iidoiicc  on  one  another,  will  not  be  dt-torred 
from  drawing  pojitical  conclusions  from  ])assing  facls,  by  a 
consciousness  of  the  slow  genesis  of  social  phenomena.  But 
tho.se  who  have  risen  to  the  belief  that  societies  are  evolved  in 
structure  and  function,  as  in  growth,  will  be  made  to  hesitate 
on  ron(('nii)l:itiiig  tiie  loJig  unfolding  through  which  early 
causes  woi'k  uni  ]ut«;  results. 


OBJECTIVE   DIFFICULTIES.  93 

Even  true  appreciation  of  the  successive  facts  which  an 
individual  life  presents,  is  generally  hindered  by  inability  to 
grasp  the  gradual  processes  by  whicli  ultimate  effects  are  pro- 
duced ;  as  we  may  see  in  the  foolish  mother  who,  yielding  to 
her  perverse  child,  gains  the  immediate  benefit  of  peace,  and 
cannot  foresee  the  evil  of  chronic  dissension  which  her  policy 
will  hereafter  bring  about.  And  in  the  life  of  a  nation,  which, 
if  of  high  type,  lasts  at  least  a  hundred  individual  lives,  cor- 
rect estimation  of  results  is  still  more  hindei*ed  by  this  im- 
mense duration  of  the  actions  through  which  antecedents 
bring  their  consequents.  In  judging  of  political  good  and 
evil,  the  average  legislator  thinks  much  after  the  manner  of 
the  mother  dealing  with  the  spoiled  child :  if  a  course  is  pro- 
ductive of  immediate  benefit,  that  is  considered  sufficient  jus- 
tification. Quite  recently  an  inquiry  has  been  made  into  the 
results  of  an  administration  which  had  been  in  action  some 
five  years  only,  with  the  tacit  assumption  that  supposing  the 
results  were  proved  good,  the  administration  would  be  justified. 

And  yet  to  those  who  look  into  the  records  of  the  past  not 
to  revel  in  narratives  of  battles  or  to  gloat  over  court-scandals, 
but  to  find  how  institutions  and  laws  have  arisen  and  how 
they  have  worked,  there  is  no  truth  more  obvious  than  that 
generation  after  generation  must  pass  before  the  outcome  of 
an  action  that  has  been  set  up  can  be  seen.  Take  the  example 
furnished  us  by  our  Poor  Laws.  When  villeinage  had  passed 
away  and  serfs  were  no  longer  maintained  by  their  owners — 
when,  in  the  absence  of  any  one  to  control  and  take  care  of 
serfs,  there  arose  an  increasing  class  of  mendicants  and  "  stur- 
dy rogues,  preferring  robbery  to  labour  " — when,  in  Richard 
the  Second's  time,  authority  over  such  was  given  to  justices 
and  sheriffs,  out  of  which  there  presently  grew  the  binding  of 
servants,  labourers,  and  beggars,  to  their  respective  localities 
— when,  to  meet  the  case  of  beggars,  "  impotent  to  serve,"  the 
people  of  the  districts  in  which  they  were  found,  were  made 
in  some  measure  responsible  for  them  (so  re-introducing  in  a 
more  general  form  the  feudal  arrangement  of  attachment  to 
the  soil,  and  reciprocal  claim  on  the  soil) ;  it  was  not  sus- 
pected that  the  foundations  were  laid  for  a  system  which 
would,  in  after  times,  binng  about  a  demoralization  threaten- 
ing general  ruin.    When,  in  subsequent  centuries,  to  meet 


94  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

the  evils  of  again-increasing  vagi'ancy  \vhich  punishment 
failed  to  I'epress,  these  measures,  re-enacted  with  modifica- 
tions, ended  in  making  the  people  of  eacli  parish  chargeable 
"w  ith  the  maintenance  of  their  poor,  while  it  re-established  the 
severest  penalties  on  vagabondage,  even  to  death  without 
benefit  of  clergy,  no  one  ever  anticipated  that  while  the  penal 
elements  of  this  legislation  would  by  and  by  become  so  modi- 
fied as  to  have  little  practical  effect  in  checking  idleness,  the 
accompanying  arrangements  would  eventually  take  such 
forms  as  immensely  to  encourage  idleness.  Neither  legisla- 
tors nor  others  foresaw  that  in  230  years  tlie  poor's-rate,  hav- 
ing gTowm  to  seven  millions,  would  become  a  public  spoil  of 
W'hich  we  read  that — 

"  The  ignorant  believed  it  an  inexhaustible  fund  which  belonged 
to  them.  To  obtain  their  share  the  brutal  bullied  the  administrators, 
the  profligate  exhibited  their  bastards  whieh  must  be  I'cd,  the  itUo 
folded  their  arms  and  waited  till  they  got  it;  ignorant  boys  and  girls 
married  upon  it ;  poachers,  thieves,  and  prostitutes,  extorted  it  by  in- 
timidation; country  justices  lavished  it  for  po[)ularity,  and  guardians 
for  convenience.  .  .  .  Better  men  sank  down  among  the  worse: 
the  rate-paying  cottager,  after  a  vain  struggle,  went  to  the  pay-table 
to  seek  relief ;  the  modest  girl  might  starve  while  her  bolder  neighbour 
received  Is.  Gd.  per  week  for  every  illegitimate  child." 

As  sequences  of  the  law  of  Elizabeth,  no  one  imagined  that, 
in  rural  districts,  fai-mers,  Ijeconiing  chief  administrators, 
would  pay  part  of  tbeir  men's  wages  out  of  the  rates  (so  tax- 
ing the  rest  of  the  ratepayei'S  for  the  cultivation  of  their 
fields)  ;  and  that  tins  abnormal  relation  of  niaster  and  man 
would  entail  bad  cultivation.  No  one  imagined  tbat,  to  escajjc 
poors-rates,  landlords  would  avoid  building  cottages,  and 
would  even  clear  cottages  away :  so  causing  over-crowding, 
with  conse(juent  evils,  bodily  and  mental.  No  one  imngined 
tliat  workbouses,  so  called,  would  become^  places  for  idling  in  ; 
and  places  wliere  married  couples  would  displ.-iy  Ibcir  "elec- 
tive allinities  "  time  .after  time."  Yet  these,  and  (ietriiueii)al 
results  which  it  would  take  pages  to  enumerate,  culminating 
in  that  general  result  Jiiost  (letrimental  of  nil  liel])ing  the 
wortliless  to  nniltii)ly  at  the  expense  of  the  worthy — fiiuilly 
came  out  of  mca.sures  taken  out  ages  ago  merely  to  mitigate 
certain  imimiliate  evils. 


OBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES.  95 

Is  it  not  obvious,  then,  that  only  in  the  course  of  tliose 
long  periods  required  to  mould  national  characters  and  habits 
and  sentiments,  will  the  truly-impoi'tant  results  of  a  public 
policy  show  themselves  ?  Let  us  consider  the  question  a 
little  further. 

In  a  society  living,  growing,  changing,  every  new  factor 
becomes  a  permanent  force ;  modifying  more  or  less  the  direc- 
tion of  movement  determined  by  the  aggregate  of  forces. 
Never  simple  and  direct,  but,  by  the  co-operation  of  so  many 
causes,  made  irregular,  involved,  and  always  rhythmical,  the 
course  of  social  change  cannot  be  judged  of  in  its  general 
direction  by  inspecting  any  small  portion  of  it.  Each  action 
will  inevitably  be  followed,  after  a  while,  by  some  direct  or 
indirect  reaction,  and  this  again  by  a  re-action ;  and  until  the 
successive  effects  have  shown  themselves,  no  one  can  say  how 
the  total  motion  will  be  modified.  You  must  compare  posi- 
tions at  great  distances  from  one  another  in  time,  before  you 
can  tell  rightly  whither  things  are  tending.  Even  so  simple 
a  thing  as  a  curve  of  single  curvature  cannot  have  its  natui-e 
perceived  unless  there  is  a  considerable  length  of  it.  See  here 
these  five  points  close  together.  The  curve  passing  through 
them  may  be  a  circle,  an  ellipse,  a  parabola,  an  hyperbola. 
Let  the  points  be  further  apart,  and  it  becomes  possible  to 
form  some  opinion  of  the  nature  of  the  curve — it  is  obviously 
not  a  circle.  Let  them,  or  some  of  them,  be  more  remote  still, 
and  it  may  be  seen  that  if  not  an  infinite  curve  it  mvist  be  a 
highly  eccentric  ellipse.  And  when  the  points  are  at  relative- 
ly great  distances,  the  mathematician  can  say  with  certainty 
what  conic  section  alone  will  pass  through  them  all.  Surely, 
then,  in  such  complex  and  slowly-evolving  movements  as 
those  of  a  nation's  life,  all  the  smaller  and  greater  rhythms  of 
which  fall  within  certain  general  directions,  it  is  impossible 
that  such  general  directions  can  be  traced  by  looking  at  stages 
that  are  close  together — it  is  impossible  that  the  effect  wi'ought 
on  any  general  direction  by  some  additional  force,  can  be  truly 
computed  from  observations  extending  over  but  a  few  years, 
or  but  a  few  generations. 

For,  in  the  case  of  these  most-involved  of  all  movements, 

there  is  the  difficulty,  paralleled  in  no  other  movements  (being 

only  approached  in  those  of  individual  evolution),  tliat  each 
8 


96  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

new  factor,  besides  modifying  in  an  immediate  way  the  course 
of  a  movement,  modifies  it  also  in  a  remote  way,  by  changing 
the  amounts  and  directions  of  all  other  factors.  A  fresh  influ- 
ence brought  into  play  on  a  society,  not  only  affects  its  mem- 
bers directly  in  their  acts,  but  also  indirectly  in  their  chai'ac- 
tei"s.  Continuing  to  work  on  their  characters  generation  after 
generation,  and  altering  by  inheritance  the  feelings  which 
they  bring  into  social  life  at  large,  this  influence  alters  the  in- 
tensities and  bearings  of  all  other  inliuences  throughout  the 
society.  By  slowly  initiating  modifications  of  nature,  it  brings 
into  play  forces  of  many  kinds,  incalculable  in  their  strengtlis 
and  tendencies,  that  act  without  regard  to  the  original  influ- 
ence, and  may  cause  quite  opposite  effects. 

Fully  to  exhibit  this  objective  difficulty,  and  to  show  more 
clearly  still  how  important  it  is  to  take  as  data  for  sociological 
conclusions,  not  the  brief  sequences,  but  the  sequences  that 
extend  over  centuries  or  are  traceable  througliout  civilization, 
let  us  draw  a  lesson  from  a  trait  which  all  regulative  agencies 
in  all  nations  have  displayed. 

The  original  meaning  of  human  sacrifices,  otherwise  toler- 
ably clear,  becomes  quite  clear  on  fniding  that  where  canni- 
balism is  still  rampant,  and  where  the  largest  consumers  of 
human  flesh  are  the  chiefs,  these  chiefs,  undergoing  apotheosis 
wlien  they  die,  are  believed  thereafter  to  feed  on  the  souls  of 
the  departed — the  soxils  being  regarded  as  duplicates  equally 
material  with  the  bodies  they  belong  to.  And  should  any 
doubt  remain,  it  must  be  dissipated  by  the  accounts  we  have 
of  the  ancient  Mexicans,  whose  priests,  when  war  had  not 
lately  furnislied  a  victim,  complained  to  the  king  lliat  the  god 
was  hungry ;  and  who,  when  a  victim  was  sacriliced,  olfered 
his  heart  to  the  idol  (bathing  its  lips  with  his  blood,  and  even 
])utting  portions  of  the  heart  into  his  mouth)  and  then  cooked 
and  ate  the  rest  of  the  body  theniselv(>s.  IJcvo  th(>  fact  to 
wliich  atUMilion  is  drawn,  and  which  various  civilizations 
show  us,  is  that  the  K;u'ri1i<ing  of  prisoners  or  others,  once  a 
general  usage  among  cannil)a]  ancestry,  continues  as  an  ecclc- 
sia-stical  usage  long  after  having  died  out  in  the  ordinary  life 
of  a  socicfy.  Two  facts,  closely  allied  with  this  fact,  have  like 
general  ini])licatiojis.     Cutting  iniplenicuts  of  btoiie  remain  in 


OBJECTIVE   DIFFICULTIES.  97 

use  for  sacrificial  purposes  when  implements  of  bronze,  and 
even  of  iron,  are  used  for  all  other  purposes :  the  Hebrews  are 
commanded  in  Deuteronomy  to  build  altars  of  stone  without 
using  iron  tools ;  tlie  high  priest  of  Jupiter  at  Rome  was 
shaved  with  a  bronze  knife.  Further,  the  primitive  method 
of  obtaining  fire  by  tlie  friction  of  pieces  of  wood,  survives  in 
religious  ceremonies  ages  after  its  abandonment  in  the  house- 
hold ;  and  even  now,  among  the  Hindus,  the  flame  for  the 
altar  is  kindled  by  the  "fire  drill."  Tliese  are  striking  in- 
stances of  the  pertinacity  with  which  the  oldest  part  of  the 
regulative  organization  maintains  its  original  traits  in  the 
teeth  of  influences  that  modify  things  around  it. 

The  like  holds  in  respect  of  the  language,  spoken  and 
written,  which  it  employs.  Among  the  Egyptians  the  most 
ancient  form  of  hieroglyphics  was  retained  for  sacred  records, 
when  more  developed  forms  were  adopted  for  other  purposes. 
The  continued  use  of  Hebrew  for  religious  services  among  the 
Jews,  and  the  continued  use  of  Latin  for  the  Roman  Catholic 
service,  show  us  how  strong  this  tendency  is,  apart  from  the 
particular  creed.  Among  ourselves,  too,  a  less  dominant 
ecclesiasticism  exhibits  a  kindred  trait.  The  English  of  the 
Bible  is  of  an  older  style  than  the  English  of  the  date  at 
which  the  translation  was  made ;  and  in  the  church  service 
various  words  retain  obsolete  meanings,  and  others  are  pro- 
nounced in  obsolete  ways.  Even  the  typography,  ^\^th  its  illu- 
minated letters  of  the  rubric,  shows  traces  of  the  same  ten- 
dency; while  Puseyites  and  ritualists,  aiming  to  reinforce 
ecclesiasticism,  betray  a  decided  leaning  towards  archaic  print, 
as  well  as  archaic  ornaments.  In  tlie  aesthetic  direction,  in- 
deed, their  movement  has  brought  back  the  most  primitive 
type  of  sculpture  for  monumental  purposes ;  as  may  be  seen 
in  Canterbury  Cathedral,  where,  in  two  new  monuments  to 
ecclesiastics,  one  being  Archbishop  Sumner,  the  robed  figures 
recline  on  their  backs,  with  hands  joined,  after  the  manner  of 
the  mailed  knights  on  early  tombs— presenting  complete  sym- 
metry of  attitude,  which  is  a  distinctive  trait  of  barbaric  art, 
as  shown  by  every  child's  drawing  of  a  man  and  every  idol 
carved  by  a  savage. 

A  conscious  as  well  as  an  unconscious  adhesion  to  the  old 
in   usage  and  doctrine  is  shown.     Not  only  among  Roman 


98  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

Catholics  but  among  many  Protestants,  to  ascertain  what  the 
Fathers  said,  is  to  ascertain  what  should  be  believed.  In  the 
pending  controversy  about  tlie  Athanasian  Creed,  we  see  how 
much  authority  attaches  to  an  antique  document.  The  an- 
tagonism between  Convocation  and  the  lay  members  of  the 
Church — the  one  as  a  body  wishing  to  retain  the  cm'sing 
clauses  and  the  other  to  exclude  them — furtlier  shows  that 
official  Protestantism  adhex'es  to  antiquity  much  more  than 
non-official  Protestantism :  a  contrast  equally  displayed  not 
long  since  between  the  opinions  of  the  lay  part  and  the  clerical 
part  of  the  Protestant  Irish  Church. 

Throughout  political  organizations  the  like  tendency, 
though  less  dominant,  is  very  strong.  The  gradual  establish- 
ment of  law  by  the  consolidation  of  custom,  is  the  formation 
of  something  fixed  in  the  midst  of  things  that  ai*e  changing  ; 
and,  regarded  under  its  most  general  aspect  as  the  agency 
which  maintains  a  permanent  order,  it  is  in  the  very  nature 
of  a  State-organization  to  be  relatively  rigid.  The  way  in 
which  primitive  principles  and  practices,  no  longer  fully  in 
force  among  individuals  ruled,  survive  in  the  actions  of  ruling 
agents,  is  curiously  illustrated  by  the  long  retention  between 
nobles  of  a  right  of  feud  after  it  had  been  disallowed  between 
citizens.  Chief  vassals,  too,  retained  this  power  to  secure  jus- 
tice for  themselves  after  smaller  vassals  lost  it :  not  only  was 
a  riglit  of  war  with  one  another  recognized,  but  also  a  right  of 
defence  against  the  king.  And  we  see  that  even  now,  in  the 
deaHngs  between  Governments,  armed  force  to  remedy  in- 
juries is  still  employed,  as  it  originally  was  between  all  indi- 
viduals. As  bearing  in  the  same  direction,  it  is  significant 
tliat  the  riglit  of  trial  by  battle,  which  was  a  regulated  form 
of  the  aboriginal  system  under  which  men  administered  jus- 
tice in  their  own  cases,  survived  among  Die  ruling  classes 
when  no  longer  legal  among  inferior  classes.  Even  on  behalf 
of  religious  communities  judicial  duels  were  fought.  Here 
the  thing  it  concerns  us  to  note  is  that  the  system  of  flgliling 
in  person  and  lighling  by  deputy,  when  no  longer  otherwiso 
lawful,  was  retained,  actually  or  formally,  in  various  parts  of 
the  regulative;  organization.  Up  to  the  reign  of  George  III., 
trial  by  battle  could  l)e  claimed  as  an  alternative  of  trial  by 
jury.    Duels  continueil  till  <pute  recently  between  members  of 


OBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES.  99 

the  ruling'  classes,  and  especially  between  officers ;  and  even 
now  in  Continental  armies  duelling  is  not  only  recognized  as 
proper,  but  is,  in  some  cases,  imperative.  And  then,  showing 
most  strikingly  how  these  oldest  usages  survive  longest,  in 
connexion  with  the  oldest  part  of  the  governing  organization, 
we  have  had  in  the  coronation  ceremony,  up  to  modern  times, 
a  champion  in  armour  uttering  by  herald  a  challenge  to  all 
comers  on  behalf  of  the  monarch. 

If,  from  the  agencies  by  which  law  is  enforced,  we  pass  to 
legal  forms,  language,  documents,  &c.,  the  like  tendency  is 
everywhere  conspicuous.  Parchment  is  retained  for  law- 
deeds  though  paper  has  replaced  it  for  other  purposes.  The 
form  of  writing  is  an  old  form.  Latin  and  Norman-French 
terms  are  still  in  use  for  legal  purposes,  though  not  otherwise 
in  use ;  and  even  old  English  words,  such  as  "  seize,"  retain  in 
Law,  meanings  which  they  have  lost  in  current  speech.  In 
the  execution  of  documents,  too,  the  same  truth  is  illustrated  ; 
for  the  seal,  which  was  originally  the  signature,  continues, 
though  the  written  signature  now  practically  replaces  it — 
nay,  we  retain  a  symbol  of  the  synibol,  as  may  be  seen  in 
every  share  ti^ansfer,  where  there  is  a  paper- wafer  to  repre- 
sent the  seal.  Even  still  more  antique  usages  survive  in 
legal  transactions ;  as  in  the  form  extant  in  Scotland  of 
handing  over  a  portion  of  rock  when  an  estate  is  sold, 
which  evidently  answers  to  the  ceremony  among  the  an- 
cient nations  of  sending  earth  and  water  as  a  sign  of  yielding 
territory. 

From  the  working  of  State-departments,  too,  many  kin- 
dred illustrations  might  be  given.  Even  under  the  peremp- 
tory requirements  of  national  safety,  the  flint-lock  for  muskets 
was  but  tardily  replaced  by  the  jjercussion-lock  ;  and  the  rifle 
had  been  commonly  in  use  for  sporting  purposes  generations 
before  it  came  into  more  than  sparing  use  for  military  pur- 
poses. Book-keeping  by  double  entry  had  long  been  perma- 
nently established  in  the  mercantile  world  before  it  superseded 
book-keeping  by  single  entry  in  Government  offices  :  its  adop- 
tion dating  back  only  to  1834,  when  a  still  more  antique  sys- 
tem of  keeping  accounts  by  notches  cut  on  sticks,  was  put  an 
end  to  by  the  conflagration  that  resulted  from  the  burning  of 
the  Exchequer-tallies. 


100  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

Tlie  like  holds  with  aj^parel,  in  general  and  in  detail. 
Cocked  hats  are  yet  to  be  seen  on  the  heads  of  officers.  An 
extinct  form  of  dress  still  holds  its  ground  as  the  Court-dress ; 
and  the  sword  once  habitually  worn  by  gentlemen  has  be- 
come the  dress-sword  worn  only  on  State-occasions.  Every- 
where officialism  has  its  established  uniforms,  which  may  be 
traced  back  to  old  fashions  that  have  disappeared  from  ordi- 
nary life.  Some  of  these  antique  articles  of  costume  we  see  sur- 
mounting the  heads  of  judges;  others  there  are  which  still 
hang  round  the  necks  of  the  clergy ;  and  others  wliich  linger 
on  the  legs  of  bishoi)s. 

Thus,  from  the  use  of  a  flint-knife  by  the  Jews  for  the  reli- 
gious ceremony  of  circumcision,  down  to  the  pronunciation  of 
the  terminal  syllable  of  the  pra^terite  in  our  Church-service, 
down  to  the  oyez  shouted  in  a  law-court  to  secure  attention, 
down  to  the  retention  of  epaulets  for  officers,  and  down  to  the 
Norman-French  words  in  which  the  royal  assent  is  given,  this 
persistence  is  everywhere  traceable.  And  when  Ave  find  tliis 
persistence  displayed  through  all  ages  in  all  departments  of 
the  regulative  organization, — when  we  sec  it  to  be  tlie  natural 
accompaniment  of  the  function  of  that  organization,  which  is 
essentially  restraining — when  we  estimate  the  future  action  of 
the  organization  in  any  case,  by  observiiig  the  general  sweep 
of  its  cui've  tliroughout  k)ng  periods  of  the  past;  we  shall  see 
how  misleading  may  be  tlie  conclusions  draAvn  from  recent 
facts  taken  by  themselves.  Where  the  regulative  organization 
is  anywhere  made  to  ini(l(>rtake  additional  functions,  we  shall 
Jiot  form  sanguine  anticipations  on  the  strength  of  immediate 
results  of  the  desired  kind  ;  but  we  shall  suspect  that  after  the 
phase  of  early  activity  has  passed  by,  the  plasticity  of  tlie  new 
structin-e  Avill  ra])idly  diminish,  the  characteristic  tendency 
towards  rigidity  will  show  itself,  and  in  place  of  expansive 
ollect  there  will  come  a  restrictive  efVoct. 

The  reader  will  now  understand  more  clearly  the  meaning 
of  the  a.ssertion  that  true  conce])tions  of  sociological  changes 
are  to  be  reaehed  only  by  contein])lMting  their  slow  genesis 
thri)u;,'-h  (•(•iiluries,  and  lliat  basing  inferences  on  i'(>snl(s  shown 
in  sh(»rt  |i(  liods,  is  its  illusory  as  would  be  judging  of  llio 
Earth's  curvature  by  observing  whether  we  are  walking  u|>  or 
down  hill.     ,\fler  recognizing  which   li-ulh   he   will   i)erceivo 


OBJECTIVE   DIFFICULTIES.  101 

how  gi'eat  is  another  of  the  obstacles  in  the  way  of  the  Social 
Science. 

"  But  does  not  all  this  prove  too  much  ?  If  it  is  so  difficult 
to  get  sociological  evidence  that  is  not  vitiated  by  the  sub- 
jective states  of  the  witnesses,  by  their  prejudices,  enthusi- 
asms, interests,  &c. — if  where  there  is  impartial  examination, 
the  conditions  to  the  inquiry  are  of  themselves  so  apt  to  falsify 
the  result — if  there  is  so  general  a  proneness  to  assert  as  facts 
observed  what  were  really  inferences  from  observations,  and 
so  great  a  tendency  also  to  be  blinded  by  exterior  trivialities 
to  interior  essentials — if  even  where  accurate  data  are  accessi- 
ble, their  multitudinousness  and  diffusion  in  Space  make  it 
impracticable  clearly  to  grasp  them  as  wholes,  while  their  un- 
folding in  Time  is  so  slow  that  antecedents  and  consequents 
cannot  be  mentally  represented  in  their  true  relations ;  is  it 
not  manifestly  impossible  that  a  Social  Science  can  be 
framed  ? " 

It  must  be  admitted  that  the  array  of  objective  difficulties 
thus  brought  together  is  formidable ;  and  were  it  the  aim  of 
the  Social  Science  to  draw  quite  special  and  definite  conclu- 
sions, which  must  depend  for  their  truth  upon  exact  dr.ta  ac- 
curately co-ordinated,  it  would  obviously  have  to  be  abandoned. 
But  there  are  certain  classes  of  general  facts  which  remain 
after  all  errors  in  detail,  however  produced,  have  been  allowed 
for.  Whatever  conflicts  there  may  be  among  accounts  of 
events  that  occm-red  during  feudal  ages,  comparison  of  them 
brings  out  the  incontestable  truth  that  there  was  a  Feudal 
System.  By  their  implications,  chronicles  and  laws  indicate 
the  traits  of  this  system ;  and  on  putting  side  by  side  narra- 
tives and  documents  written,  not  to  tell  us  about  the  Feudal 
System  but  for  quite  other  purposes,  we  get  tolerably  clear 
ideas  of  these  traits  in  their  essentials — ideas  made  clearer  still 
on  collating  the  evidence  furnished  by  different  contemporary 
societies.  Similarly  throughout.  By  making  due  use  not  so 
much  of  that  which  past  and  pi'esent  witnesses  intend  to  tell 
us,  as  of  that  which  they  tell  us  by  implication,  it  is  possible 
to  collect  data  for  inductions  respecting  social  structures  and 
functions  in  their  origin  and  development :  the  obstacles 
which  arise  in  the  disentangling  of  such  data  in  the  case  of 


102  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

any  particular  society,  being  mostly  siirmountable  by  the  lieli) 
of  the  comparative  method. 

Nevertheless,  the  difficulties  above  enumerated  must  be 
ever  present  to  us.  Thi'oughout,  we  have  to  depend  on  testi- 
mony :  and  in  every  case  we  have  to  beware  of  the  many 
modes  in  which  evidence  may  be  vitiated — have  to  estimate 
its  worth  when  it  has  been  discounted  in  various  ways ;  and 
have  to  take  care  that  our  conclusions  do  not  dei^end  on  any 
particular  class  of  facts  gathered  from  any  particulax*  place  or 
time. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

SUBJECTIVE   DIFFICULTIES — INTELLECTUAL. 

If  you  watch  the  management  of  a  child  by  a  mother  of 
small  capacity,  you  may  be  struck  by  the  inability  she  betrays 
to  imagine  the  child's  thoughts  and  feelings.  Full  of  energy 
which  he  must  expend  in  some  way,  and  eager  to  see  every- 
thing, her  little  boy  is  every  moment  provoking  her  by  his 
restlessness.  The  occasion  is  perhaps  a  railway  journey.  Now 
he  strives  to  look  out  of  the  window  ;  and  now,  when  forbid- 
den to  do  that,  climbs  on  the  seats,  or  meddles  with  the  small 
luggage.  "  Sit  still,"  "  Get  down,  I  tell  you,"  "  Why  can't  you 
be  quiet  ? "  are  the  commands  and  expostulations  she  utters 
from  minute  to  minute— partly,  no  doubt,  to  prevent  the  dis- 
comfort of  fellow-passengers.  But,  as  you  will  see  at  times 
when  no  such  motive  comes  into  play,  she  endeavours  to  re- 
press these  childish  activities  mainly  out  of  regard  for  what 
she  thinks  propriety,  and  does  it  without  any  adequate  recog- 
nition of  the  penalties  she  inflicts.  Though  she  herself  lived 
through  this  phase  of  extreme  curiosity— this  early  time  when 
almost  every  object  passed  has  the  charm  of  novelty,  and  when 
the  overflowing  energies  generate  a  pamful  irritation  if  pent 
up  ;  yet  now  she  cannot  believe  how  keen  is  the  desire  for  see- 
ing which  she  balks,  and  how  difficult  is  the  maintenance  of 
that  quietude  on  which  she  insists.  Conceiving  her  child's 
consciousness  in  terms  of  her  own  consciousness,  and  feeling 
how  easy  it  is  to  sit  still  and  not  look  out  of  the  window,  she 
ascribes  his  behaviour  to  mere  perversity. 

I  recall  this  and  kindred  cases  to  the  reader's  mind,  for  the 
purpose  of  exemplifying  a  necessity  and  a  difficulty.  The  ne- 
cessity is  that  in  dealing  with  other  beings  and  interpreting 
their  actions,  we  must  represent  their  thoughts  and  feelings  in 

loa 


104:  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

terms  of  our  own.  Tlie  difficulty  is  that  in  so  representing 
them  we  can  never  be  more  than  partially  right,  and  are  fre- 
quently very  wrong.  The  conception  which  any  one  frames 
of  another's  mind,  is  inevitably  more  or  less  after  the  pattern 
of  his  own  mind — is  automorphic ;  and  in  proportion  as  the 
mind  of  which  he  has  to  frame  a  conception  diiters  from  his 
own,  his  automorphic  interpretation  is  likely  to  be  wide  of  the 
truth. 

That  measuring  other  person's  actions  by  the  standards  our 
own  thoughts  and  feelings  furnish,  often  causes  misconstruc- 
tion, is  a  remark  familiar  even  to  the  vulgar.  But  while 
among  members  of  the  same  society,  having  natures  nearly 
akin,  it  is  seen  that  automorphic  explanations  are  often  er- 
roneous, it  is  not  seen  with  due  cleai'iiess  how  mvich  more 
erroneous  such  explanations  commonly  are,  when  the  actions 
are  those  of  men  of  another  race,  to  whom  the  kinship  in  na- 
ture is  comparatively  remote.  We  do,  indeed,  perceive  this, 
if  the  interpretations  are  not  our  own ;  and  if  both  the  inter- 
preters and  the  interpreted  are  mentally  alien  to  us.  When, 
as  in  early  English  literature,  we  find  Greek  history  conceived 
in  terms  of  feudal  institutions,  and  the  heroes  of  antiquity 
spoken  of  as  princesses,  kuiglits,  and  squires,  it  becomes  clear 
that  the  ideas  concerning  ancient  civilization  must  have  been 
utterly  wrong.  Wlien  we  find  Virgil  named  in  religious 
stories  of  the  middle  ages  as  one  among  the  prophets  wdio  vis- 
ited the  cradle  of  Christ — when  an  illustrated  psalter  gives 
scenes  from  the  life  of  Christ  in  which  there  repeatedly  figures 
a  castle  with  a  portcullis — Avhen  even  the  crucifixion  is  de- 
scribed by  Langland  in  the  language  of  chivalry,  so  tliat  the 
man  who  pierced  Christ's  side  with  a  spear  is  considered  as  a 
knight  who  disgraced  bis  knighthood  ' — when  wo  read  of  the 
Crusaders  calling  themselves  "vassals  of  Christ;"  we  netnl 
no  further  jiroof  that  by  carrying  their  own  sentiments  and 
i(i(;is  to  the  interpretation  of  social  arrangements  and  transac- 
tions among  the  Jews,  our  ancestors  were  led  into  absurd  mis- 
ronfe]itions.  P>nt  wo  do  not  roooirnizo  tlio  fact  that  in  virtue 
of  the  sniiie  feiidf  iiry.  wo  :iro  over  fnuiiing  co?icoptions  which, 
if  not  so  <rroles(|iie]y  mil  nic.  .'ii-e  yet  very  wide  of  llio  truth. 
How  difruMilt  it  is  to  imagine  mental  states  rcTnote  from  our 
own  so  <'orre('flv  that  we  can   understand   how  they  issue  in 


SUBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES— INTELLECTUAL.      105 

individual  actions,   and  consequently  in  social  actions,  an 
instance  will  make  manifest.  • 

The  feeling  of  vague  wonder  with  which  he  received  his 
first  lessons  in  the  Greek  mythology,  will  most  likely  he 
dimly  remembered  by  every  reader.  If  not  in  words,  still 
inarticulately,  there  passed  through  him  the  thought  that 
faith  in  such  stories  was  unaccountable.  When,  afterwards, 
he  read  in  books  of  travels  details  of  the  amazing  superstitions 
of  savages,  there  was  joined  with  a  sense  of  the  absurdity  of 
these  superstitions,  much  astonishment  at  their  acceptance  by 
any  human  beings,  however  ignorant  or  stupid.  Such  beliefs 
as  that  the  people  of  a  neighbouring  tribe  had  descended  from 
ducks,  that  I'ain  fell  when  certain  deities  began  to  spit  on  the 
Earth,  that  the  island  lived  upon  had  been  pulled  up  from  the 
bottom  of  the  ocean  by  one  of  their  gods,  whose  hook  got  fast 
when  he  was  fishing — these,  and  countless  beliefs  equally 
laughable,  seemed  to  imply  an  irrationality  near  to  insanity. 
He  interpreted  them  automorphically — carrying  with  him  not 
simply  his  own  faculties  developed  to  a  stage  of  complexity 
considerably  beyond  that  reached  by  the  faculties  of  the  sav- 
age, but  also  the  modes  of  thinking  in  which  he  was  brought 
up,  and  the  stock  of  information  he  had  acquired.  Probably 
it  has  never  since  occurred  to  him  to  do  otherwise.  Even  if 
he  now  attempts  to  see  things  from  the  savage's  point  of  view, 
he  most  likely  fails  entirely;  and  if  he  succeeds  at  all,  it  is 
but  partially.  Yet  only  by  seeing  things  as  the  savage  sees 
them  ca2i  his  ideas  be  understood,  his  behaviour  accounted 
for,  and  the  resulting  social  phenomena  explained.  These 
apparently-strange  superstitions  are  quite  natural— quite  ra- 
tional, in  a  certain  sense,  in  their  respective  times  and  places. 
The  laws  of  intellectual  action  are  the  same  for  civilized  and 
uncivilized.  The  difference  between  civilized  and  uncivilized 
is  in  complexity  of  faculty  and  in  amount  of  knowledge  ac- 
cumulated and  generalized.  Given,  reflective  powers  devel- 
oped only  to  that  lower  degree  in  which  they  are  possessed  by 
the  aboriginal  man— given,  his  small  stock  of  ideas,  collected 
in  a  narrow  area  of  space,  and  not  added  to  by  records  extend- 
ing through  time — given,  his  impulsive  nature  incapable  of 
patient  inquiry  ;  and  these  seemingly-monstrous  stories  of  his 
become  in  reality  the  most  feasible  explanations  he  can  find  of 


106  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

surrounding  things.  Yet  even  after  concluding  tliat  this 
must  be  so,,  it  is  not  easy  to  think  from  the  savage's  stand- 
point, clearly  enough  to  follow  the  effects  of  his  ideas  on  his 
acts,  through  all  the  relations  of  life,  social  and  other. 

A  parallel  difficulty  stands  in  the  way  of  rightly  conceiv- 
ing character  remote  from  our  own,  so  as  to  see  how  it  issues 
in  conduct.  We  may  best  recognize  our  inability  in  this  re- 
spect, by  observing  tli6  converse  inability  of  other  races  to 
understand  oiu"  characters,  and  the  acts  they  prompt. 

"  Wonderful  are  the  works  of  Allah !  Behold !  That  Frank  is 
trudging  about  when  he  can,  if  he  pleases,  sit  still ! "  * 

In  like  manner  Cajitain  Speke  tells  us,— 

"  If  I  walked  up  and  down  the  same  place  to  stretch  my  legs,  they 
[Somali]  formed  councils  of  war  on  my  motives,  considering  I  must 
have  some  secret  designs  upon  their  country,  or  1  would  not  do  it,  as 
no  man  in  his  senses  could  be  guilty  of  working  his  legs  unneces- 
sarily." 3 

But  while,  by  instances  like  these,  we  are  shown  that  our 
characters  are  in  a  large  measure  incom])rehensible  by  races 
remote  in  natul-e  from  us.  tlie  correlative  fact  that  we  cannot 
rightly  conceive  their  sentiments  and  motives  is  one  perpetu- 
ally overlooked  in  our  sociological  interpi'etations.  Feeling, 
for  instance,  how  natural  it  is  to  take  an  easier  course  in  place 
of  a  more  laborious  course,  and  to  adopt  new  methods  that 
are  proved  to  be  better  methods,  we  are  puzzled  on  finding  the 
Chinese  stick  to  their  dim  paper-lamps,  though  they  admire 
our  l)right  argand-lanips,  which  they  do  not  use  if  given  to 
them  ;  or  on  iinding  that  the  Hindus  prefer  their  rougli  primi- 
tive tools,  after  seeing  liow  our  improved  tools  do  more  woi-k 
with  less  effort.  And  on  descending  to  races  yet  more  remote 
in  civilization,  we  still  oftener  discover  ourselves  A\Tong  when 
we  KU])])()se  that  under  given  conditions  tbey  will  act  as  we 
should  act. 

Here,  then,  is  a  subjective  difficulty  of  a  serious  kind.  To 
understand  any  fact  in  social  (>vo]ution,  we  bavc  to  see  it  as 
resuKiii;,'-  fi-oni  tbe  joiiit  actions  of  individuals  liavinLr  ccrlain 
natures.  We  cannot  so  untlerstand  it  without  understanding 
tlioir  natures;  and  tliis,  even  by  care  and  elVort,  we  are 
able  to  do  but  very  imi)erfectly.      Our  interpretations  must 


SUBJECTTVK   DIFFICULTIES— INTELLECTUAT..       107 

be  automorpliic ;  and    yet   automorphism    perpetually    mis- 
leads us. 

One  would  hardly  suppose,  a  2'>riori,  that  untruthfulness 
woiild  habitually  co-exist  with  credulity.  Rather  our  infer- 
ence might  be  that,  because  of  the  tendency  above  enlarged 
upon,  people  most  given  to  nnaking  false  statements  must  be 
people  most  inclined  to  suspect  statements  made  by  others. 
Yet,  somewhat  anomalously,  as  it  seems,  habitual  veracity 
generally  goes  with  inclination  to  doubt  evidence ;  and  ex- 
treme untrustworthiness  of  assertion  often  has  for  its  con- 
comitant, readiness  to  accept  the  greatest  improbabilities  on  tlie 
slendei'est  testimony.  If  you  comijare  savage  with  civilized, 
or  compare  the  successive  stages  of  civilization  with  one  an- 
other, you  find  untruthfulness  and  credulity  decreasing  to- 
gether ;  vxiitil  you  reach  the  modern  man  of  science,  who  is  at 
once  exact  in  his  statements  and  critical  respecting  evidence. 
The  converse  relation  to  that  seen  in  the  man  of  science,  is 
even  now  startlingly  presented  in  the  East,  where  greediness 
in  swallowing  fictions  goes  along  with  superfluous  telling  of 
falsehoods.  An  Egyptian  prides  himself  in  a  clever  lie, 
uttei-ed  perhai^s  without  motive  ;  and  a  dyer  will  even  ascribe 
the  failure  in  fixing  one  of  his  colours  to  the  not  having  been 
successful  in  a  deception.  Yet  so  great  is  the  readiness  to  be- 
lieve improbabilities,  that  Mr.  St.  John,  in  his  Two  Years^ 
Residence  in  a  Levantine  Family,  narrates  how,  wdien  the 
"  Arabian  Nights'  Entertainments  "  was  being  read  aloud,  and 
when  he  hinted  that  the  stories  must  not  be  accepted  as  true, 
there  arose  a  strong  protest  against  such  scepticism  :  the  ques- 
tion being  asked, — "Why  should  a  man  sit  down  and  write  so 
many  lies  ? "  * 

I  point  out  this  union  of  seemingly-inconsistent  traits,  not 
because  of  the  direct  bearing  it  has  on  the  argument,  but  be- 
cause of  its  indirect  bearing.  For  I  have  here  to  dwell  on  the 
misleading  eflFects  of  certain  mental  states  which  similarly 
appears  unlikely  to  co-exist,  and  which  yet  do  habitually  co- 
exist. I  refer  to  the  belief  which,  even  while  I  write,  I  find 
repeated  in  the  leading  journal,  that  "  the  deeper  a  student  of 
history  goes,  the  more  does  he  find  man  the  same  in  all  time ;  " 
and  to  the  opposite  belief  embodied  in  current  politics,  that 


108  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

liuman  nature  may  be  readily  altered.  These  two  beliefs, 
which  oiiglit  to  cancel  one  another  but  do  not,  originate  two 
classes  of  errors  in  sociological  speculation ;  and  nothing  like 
correct  conclusions  in  Sociology  can  be  drawn  until  they  have 
been  rejected  and  replaced  by  a  belief  which  reconciles  them 
— the  belief  that  human  nature  is  indefinitely  modifiable,  but 
that  no  modification  of  it  can  be  brought  about  rapidly.  We 
will  glance  at  the  errors  to  which  each  of  these  beliefs  leads. 

Wliile  it  was  held  that  the  stars  are  fixed  and  that  the  hills 
ai'e  everlasting,  there  was  a  certain  congruity  in  the  notion 
that  man  continues  unchanged  from  age  to  age ;  but  now 
when  we  know  that  all  stars  arc  in  motion,  and  that  there  are 
no  such  things  as  everlasting  hills — now  when  we  find  all 
things  tiu'oughout  the  Universe  to  be  in  a  ceaseless  flux,  it  is 
time  for  this  crude  conception  of  human  nature  to  disappear 
out  of  our  social  conceptions  ;  or  rather — it  is  time  for  its  dis- 
appearance to  be  followed  by  tliat  of  the  many  narrow  notions 
respecting  the  past  and  tlie  future  of  society,  which  have 
grown  out  of  it,  and  which  linger  notwithstanding  the  loss  of 
their  root.  For,  avowedly  by  some  and  tacitly  by  others,  it 
continues  to  be  thought  that  the  lunnan  heart  is  as  "  desper- 
ately wicked "  as  it  ever  was,  and  that  the  state  of  society 
hereafter  will  be  very  much  like  the  state  of  society  now.  If, 
when  the  evidence  has  been  piled  mass  ;i])on  mass,  tliere  comes 
a  reluctant  admission  that  aboriginal  man,  of  troglodyte  or 
kindred  habits,  differed  somewhat  from  man  as  he  was  dur- 
ing feudal  times,  and  that  the  customs  and  sentiments  and 
beliefs  he  had  in  feudal  times,  imply  a  character  ai)i)reciably 
unlike  tliat  which  he  has  now— if,  joined  with  tliis,  tliere  is  a 
recognition  of  the  truth  that  along  witli  these  changes  in  man 
there  have  gone  still  more  conspicuous  changes  in  society; 
there  is,  nevertlieless,  an  ignoring  of  the  implicatioji  that 
hereafter  man  and  society  Avill  continue  to  change,  initil  they 
liavi^  div(>rg('(l  as  widely  from  their  existing  types  as  tlieir  ex- 
isting types  have  diverged  from  those  of  the  earliest  recorded 
agas.  it  is  true  tliat  among  the  more  cultured  tlie  proliability, 
or  even  the  certainly,  that  such  transfonnaf ions  will  go  on, 
may  be  granted;  l)ut  tlie  grunting  is  but  nominal  tlie  admis- 
sion does  not  heeoine  a  facti>r  in  the  conclusions  drawn.  Tlic 
first  discussion  on  a  political  or  social  topic,  reveals  the  tacit 


SUBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES— INTELLECTUAL.      109 

assumption  that,  in  times  to  come,  society  will  have  a  struc- 
ture substantially  like  its  existing  structure.  If,  for  instance, 
the  question  of  domestic  servit^e  is  raised,  it  mostly  happens 
that  its  bearings  are  considered  wholly  in  reference  to  those 
social  arrangements  which  exist  around  us :  only  a  few  pro- 
ceed on  the  supi^osition  that  these  arrangements  are  probably 
but  transitoiy.  It  is  so  throughout.  Be  the  subject  industrial 
organization,  or  class-relations,  or  rule  by  fashion,  the  tliought 
which  practically  moulds  the  conclusions,  if  not  the  thought 
theoretically  professed,  is,  that  whatever  changes  they  may 
undergo,  our  institutions  will  not  cease  to  be  recognizably  the 
same.  Even  those  who  have,  as  they  think,  deliberately  freed 
themselves  from  this  perverting  tendency — even  M.  Comte  and 
his  disciples,  believing  in  an  entire  transformation  of  society, 
nevertheless  betray  an  incomplete  emancipation ;  for  the  ideal 
society  expected  by  them,  is  one  under  regulation  by  a  hier- 
archy essentially  akin  to  hierarchies  such  as  mankind  have 
known.  So  that  everywhere  sociological  thinking  is  more  or 
less  impeded  by  the  difficulty  of  bearing  in  mind  that  the 
social  states  towards  which  our  race  is  being  carried,  are  prob- 
ably as  little  conceivable  by  us  as  our  present  social  state  was 
conceivable  by  a  Norse  pirate  and  his  followers. 

Note,  now,  the  opposite  ditHculty,  which  appears  to  be  sm*- 
mountable  by  scarcely  any  of  our  parties,  political  or  philan- 
thropic,— the  difficulty  of  understanding  that  human  nature, 
though  indefinitely  modifiable,  can  be  modified  but  very 
slowly ;  and  that  all  laws  and  institutions  and  ai^pliances 
which  count  on  getting  from  it,  w^ithin  a  short  time,  much 
better  results  than  present  ones,  will  inevitably  fail.  If  we 
glance  over  the  programmes  of  societies,  and  sects,  and  schools 
of  all  kinds,  from  Rousseau's  disciples  in  the  French  Con- 
vention up  to  the  members  of  the  United  Kingdom  Alliance, 
from  the  adherents  of  the  Ultramontane  propaganda  up  to 
the  enthusiastic  advocates  of  an  education  exclusively  secular, 
we  And  in  them  one  connnon  trait.  They  are  all  pervaded 
by  the  conviction,  now  definitely  expressed  and  now  taken  as 
a  self-evident  truth,  that  there  needs  but  this  kind  of  in- 
struction or  that  kind  of  discipline,  this  mode  of  repression  or 
that  system  of  culture,  to  ])ring  society  into  a  very  much 
better  state.     Here  we  read  that  "  it  is  necessary  completely 


110  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

to  re-fashion  the  people  whom  one  wishes  to  make  free  "  :  the 
implication  being  that  a  re-fashioning  is  j^racticable.  There 
it  is  taken  as  undeniable  that  when  you  have  taught  children 
what  they  ought  to  do  to  be  good  citizens,  they  will  become 
good  citizens.  Elsewhere  it  is  held  to  be  a  truth  beyond 
question,  that  if  by  law  temptations  to  drink  are  removed 
from  men,  they  will  not  only  cease  to  drink,  but  thereafter 
cease  to  commit  crimes.  And  yet  the  delusiveness  of  all  such 
hopes  is  obvious  enough  to  any  one  not  blinded  by  a  hypoth- 
esis, or  carried  away  by  an  enthusiasm.  The  fact,  often 
pointed  out  to  temperance-fanatics,  that  some  of  the  soberest 
nations  in  Europe  yield  a  proportion  of  crime  higher  than 
oin-  own,  might  suffice  to  show  them  that  England  would 
not  be  suddenly  moralized  if  they  cai'ried  tlieir  proposed  re- 
strictions into  effect.  The  superstition  that  good  behaviour  is 
to  be  forthwith  produced  by  lessons  learnt  out  of  school- 
books,  which  was  long  ago  statistically  disproved,'  would, 
but  for  preconceptions,  be  utterly  dissipated  by  observing  to 
what  a  slight  extent  knowledge  affects  conduct — by  observing 
that  the  dishonesty  implied  in  the  adulterations  of  tradesmen 
and  manufacturers,  in  fraudulent  bankru])tcies,  in  bubble- 
companies,  in  "cooking"  of  railway  accounts  and  financial 
prospectuses,  differs  only  in  form,  and  not  in  amount,  from 
the  dishonesty  of  the  uneducated — by  observing  how  amaz- 
ingly little  the  teachings  given  to  medical  students  affect 
their  lives,  and  how  even  the  most  experienced  medical  men 
have  their  jjrudence  scarcely  at  all  increased  by  their  infor- 
mation. Similarly,  the  Utopian  ideas  which  come  out  afresh 
along  with  every  new  political  scheme,  from  the  "paper-con- 
stituti(ms"  of  the  Abbe  Sieyes  down  to  the  lately-published 
programme  of  M.  Louis  Blanc,  and  from  agitations  for  vote- 
by-])allot  up  to  those  which  have  a  Republic  for  their  aim, 
might,  but  for  this  lacit  Ix'licf  wo  are  contem])lating,  be 
extinguislied  by  the  fads  perix'tually  and  st^irtlingly  thnist 
on  our  att('nti(m.  Again  and  again  for  three  generations  has 
France  been  sliowing  to  tlie  woi-Id  how  iini)ossibU'  it  is  <>ssen- 
tially  to  chungo  the  typt-  of  a  social  slriictiM-c  by  any  re- 
arrangcnicrit  wrouglii  oul  llirough  a  revolution.  However 
great  the  transfonnation  may  for  a  time  seem,  tlie  oi-iginal 
thing   re-appears    in    disguise.      Out   of    the    nominal ly-frco 


SUBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES— INTELLECTUAL,      m 

government  set  up  a  new  despotism  arises,  differing  from  the 
old  by  liaving  a  new  shibboleth  and  new  men  to  utter  it; 
but  identical  witli  the  old  in  the  determination  to  put  down 
opposition  and  in  the  means  used  to  this  eiad.  Liberty,  when 
obtained,  is  forthwith  surrendered  to  an  avowed  autocrat ;  or, 
as  we  have  seen  within  this  year,  is  allowed  to  lapse  into  the 
hands  of  one  who  claims  the  reality  of  autocracy  without  its 
title.  Nay,  the  change  is,  in  fact,  even  less  ;  for  the  regulative 
organization  wliich  ramifies  throughout  French  society,  con- 
tinues unaltered  by  these  changes  at  the  governmental  centre. 
The  bureaucratic  system  persists  equally  under  Imperialist, 
Constitutional,  and  Republican  arrangements.  As  the  Due 
d'AudifFret-Pasquier  pointed  out,  "  Empires  fall,  Ministries 
pass  away,  but  Bureaux  remain."  The  aggregate  of  forces 
and  tendencies  embodied,  not  only  in  the  structural  arrange- 
ments holding  the  nation  together,  but  in  the  ideas  and 
sentiments  of  its  units,  is  so  powerful,  that  the  excision  of 
a  part,  even  though  it  be  the  government,  is  quickly  fol- 
lowed by  the  substitution  of  a  like  part.  It  needs  but  to 
recall  the  truth  exerai)lified  some  chapters  back,  that  the 
properties  of  the  aggregate  are  determined  by  the  properties 
of  its  units,  to  see  at  once  that  so  long  as  the  characters  of 
citizens  remain  substantially  unchanged,  there  can  be  no  sub- 
stantial change  in  the  political  organization  which  has  slowly 
been  evolved  by  them. 

This  double  difficulty  of  thought,  with  the  double  set  of 
delusions  fallen  into  by  those  who  do  not  svirmount  it,  is, 
indeed,  naturally  associated  with  the  once-universal,  and  still- 
general,  belief  that  societies  arise  by  manufacture,  instead  of 
arising,  as  they  do,  by  evolution.  Recognize  the  truth  that 
incorporated  masses  of  men  grow,  and  acquire  their  structural 
characters  through  modification  upon  modification,  and  there 
are  excluded  these  antithetical  errors  that  humanity  remains 
the  same  and  that  humanity  is  readily  alterable ;  and  along 
with  exclusion  of  these  errors  comes  admission  of  the  infer- 
ence, that  the  changes  which  have  brought  social  arrange- 
ments to  a  form  so  different  from  jiast  forms,  will  in  future 
carry  them  on  to  forms  as  different  from  those  now  existing. 
Once  become  habituated  to  the  thought  of  a  continuous 
unfolding  of  the  whole  and  of  each  part,  and  these  misleading 
y 


112  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

ideas  disappear.  Take  a  word  and  observe  how,  while  chang- 
ing, it  gives  origin  in  course  of  time  to  a  family  of  words, 
each  changing  member  of  which  similarly  has  progeny  ;  take 
a  custom,  as  that  of  giving  eggs  at  Easter,  which  has  now 
developed  in  Paris  into  the  fashion  of  making  expensive 
presents  of  every  imaginable  kind  inclosed  in  imitation-eggs, 
becoming  at  length  large  enough  to  contain  a  brougham,  and 
which  entails  so  great  a  tax  that  people  go  abroad  to  evade  it; 
take  a  law,  once  quite  simple  and  made  to  meet  a  special  case, 
and  see  how  it  eventually,  by  successive  additions  and 
changes,  grows  up  into  a  complex  group  of  laws,  as,  out  of 
two  laws  of  William  the  Conqueror  came  our  whole  legal 
system  regulating  land-tenure  ;  *  take  a  social  appliance,  as  the 
Press,  and  see  how  from  the  news-letter,  originally  private 
and  written,  and  then  assuming  the  shape  of  a  printed  fly-leaf 
to  a  written  private  letter,  there  has  slowly  evolved  this  vast 
assemblage  of  joux*nals  and  periodicals,  daily,  Avoekly,  general, 
and  local,  that  have,  individually  and  as  an  aggregate,  gi'own 
in  size  while  growing  in  heterogeneity ;  do  this,  and  do  the 
like  with  all  other  established  institutions,  agencies,  products, 
and  there  will  come  naturally  the  conviction  that  now,  too, 
there  are  various  germs  of  things  Avhicli  will  in  the  future 
develop  in  ways  no  one  imagines,  and  take  shares  in  pro- 
found transformations  of  society  and  of  its  members  :  trans- 
formations that  are  hopeless  as  immediate  results,  but  certain 
as  ultimate  results. 

Try  to  fit  a  hand  with  five  lingers  into  a  glove  with  four. 
Your  dilliculty  a))t]y  parallels  Uw.  difficulty  of  putting  a  com- 
plex conception  into  a  mind  not  luiving  a  proportionately-com- 
plex faculty.  As  fast  as  tlie  several  terms  and  relations  \vliicli 
make  up  a  thought  become  many  and  varied,  there  must  be 
brouglit  into  play  many  and  varied  parts  of  the  intellectual 
structure,  before  the  thought  can  be  coni])roliond('d  :  and  if 
some  of  these  parts  are  wanting,  only  fragments  of  the  thought 
can  be  taken  in.     Consider  an  instance. 

Wliat  is  meant  l)y  tlie  ratio  of  A  to  B,  may  be  cx])lained  to 
u  b(iy  by  dra\vin<j:  a  short  liiu^  A  and  a  long  lin(>  B,  telling  him 
tliat  \  is  said  to  Ixsar  a  small  ratio  to  B;  and  tlien,  after 
lengthening  the  line  A,  telling  him  that  A  is  now  said  to  bear 


SUBJECTIVE   DIFFICULTIES— INTELLECTUAL.      II3 

a  larger  ratio  to  B.  But  suppose  I  have  to  explain  what  is 
meant  by  saying  that  the  ratio  of  A  to  B,  equals  the  ratio  of 
C  to  D.  Instead  of  two  different  quantities  and  one  relation, 
there  are  now  four  different  quantities  and  tliree  relations. 
To  understand  the  proposition,  the  boy  has  to  think  of  A  and 
B  and  their  difference,  and,  without  losing  his  intellectual  grasp 
of  these,  he  has  to  think  of  C  and  D  and  their  difference,  and, 
without  losing  his  intellectual  grasp  of  these,  he  has  to  think 
of  the  two  differences  as  each  having  a  like  relation  to  its  pair 
of  quantities.  Thus  the  number  of  terms  and  relations  to  be 
kept  before  the  mind,  is  such  as  to  imply  the  co-operation  of 
many  more  agents  of  thought ;  any  of  which  being  absent, 
the  proposition  cannot  be  understood :  the  boy  must  be  older 
before  he  will  understand  it,  and,  if  uncultured,  will  probably 
never  understand  it  at  all.  Let  us  pass  on  to  a  conception  of 
still  greater  complexity — say  that  the  ratio  of  A  to  B  varies  as 
the  I'atio  of  C  to  D.  Far  more  numerous  things  have  now  to 
be  represented  in  consciousness  with  ai^proximate  simulta- 
neity. A  and  B  have  to  be  thought  of  as  not  constant  in  their 
lengths,  but  as  one  or  both  of  them  changing  in  their  lengths ; 
so  that  their  difference  is  indefinitely  variable.  Similarly 
with  C  and  D.  And  then  the  variability  of  the  ratio  in  each 
case  being  duly  conceived  in  terms  of  lines  that  lengthen  and 
shorten,  the  thing  to  be  understood  is,  that  whatever  differ- 
ence any  change  brings  about  between  A  and  B,  the  relation 
it  bears  to  one  or  other  of  them,  is  always  like  that  which  the 
difference  simultaneously  arising  between  C  and  D  bears  to 
one  or  other  of  them.  The  greater  multiplicity  of  ideas  re- 
quired for  mentally  framing  this  proposition,  evidently  puts 
it  further  beyond  the  reach  of  faculties  not  developed  by  ap- 
propriate culture,  or  not  capable  of  being  so  .developed.  And 
as  the  type  of  proposition  becomes  still  more  involved,  as  it 
does  when  two  such  groups  of  dependent  variables  are  com- 
pared and  conclusions  drawn,  it  begins  to  require  a  grasp  that 
is  easy  only  to  the  disciplined  mathematician. 

One  who  does  not  possess  that  complexity  of  faculty  which, 
as  we  here  see,  is  requisite  for  grasping  a  complex  conception, 
may,  in  cases  like  these,  become  conscious  of  his  incajiacity : 
not  from  percei\'ing  what  he  lacks,  but  from  perceiving  that 
another  p^^rson   achieves   results   which   he  cannot  achieve. 


114  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

But  where  no  such  thing  as  the  verifying  of  exact  predictions 
conies  in  to  prove  to  one  of  inferior  faculty  that  his  faculty 
is  inferior,  he  is  usually  unaware  of  the  inferiority.  To  im- 
agine a  higher  mode  of  consciousness,  is  in  some  degree  to 
have  it;  so  that  until  he  has  it  in  some  degi'ee,  he  cannot 
really  conceive  of  its  existence.  An  illustration  or  two  will 
make  this  clear. 

Take  a  child  on  your  knee,  and,  tm*ning  over  with  him 
some  engravings  of  landscapes,  note  what  he  observes.  "  I 
see  a  man  in  a  boat,"  says  he,  pointing.  "  Look  at  the  cows 
coming  down  the  hill."  "  And  there  is  a  little  boy  playing 
with  a  dog."  These  and  other  such  remarks,  mostly  about  the 
living  objects  in  each  scene,  are  all  you  get  from  him.  Never 
by  any  chance  does  he  utter  a  word  respecting  the  scene  as  a 
whole.  There  is  an  absolute  unconsciousness  of  anything  to 
be  pleased  with  in  the  combination  of  wood  and  water  and 
mountain.  And  while  the  child  is  entirely  without  this  com- 
plex aesthetic  consciousness,  you  see  that  he  has  not  the  re- 
motest idea  that  such  a  consciousness  exists  in  others  but  is 
wanting  in  himself.  Note  now  a  case  in  which  a  kin- 

dred defect  is  betrayed  by  an  adult.  You  have,  perhaps,  in 
the  course  of  your  life,  had  some  nnisical  culture ;  and  can 
recall  the  stages  through  which  you  have  passed.  In  early 
days  a  symphony  was  a  mystery ;  and  you  were  somewhat 
puzzled  to  find  others  applaiiding  it.  An  unfolding  of  nnisical 
faculty,  that  went  on  slowly  tlirough  succeeding  years,  brought 
some  appreciation ;  and  now  these  complex  musical  combina- 
tions which  once  gave  you  little  or  no  pleasure,  give  you  more 
pleasure  than  any  others.  Remenil)ering  all  this,  you  susi)ect 
that  your  inditference  to  certain  still  more  involved  musical 
conil)inati<)ns  may  arise  from  incapacity  in  you,  and  not  from 
faults  in  tliem.  See,  on  the  other  liand,  what  happens  with 
one  who  ha.s  undergone  no  such  series  of  changes — say,  an  old 
naval  oflicer,  whose  life  at  .sea  kept  him  out  of  the  way  of  con- 
certs and  operas.  You  hear  him  occasionally  confess,  or 
rather  boast,  liow  much  lie  enjoys  the  bagpipes.  While  the 
last  cadences  of  a  sonata  Avhicli  a  young  lady  has  just  ])layed, 
are  .still  in  y"*'!"  ears,  he  go(>s  up  to  her  and  asks  whether  she 
can  play  "  Polly,  i)ut  tlie  kettle  on,"  or  "Johnny  comes  marcli- 
ing  home."     And  then,  when  concerts  are  talked  about  at 


SUBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES— INTELLECTUAL.      115 

table,  lie  seizes  the  occasion  for  expressing  his  dislike  of  clas- 
sical music,  and  scarcely  conceals  his  contempt  for  those  who 
go  to  hear  it.  On  contemplating  his  mental  state,  you  see 
that  along  with  absence  of  the  ability  to  grasp  complex  mu- 
sical combinations,  there  goes  no  consciousness  of  the  absence 

there  is  no  suspicion  that  such  complex  combinations  exist, 

and  that  other  persons  have  facilities  for  appreciating  them. 

And  now  for  the  application  of  this  general  truth  to  our 
subject.  The  conceptions  with  which  sociological  science  is 
concerned,  are  complex  beyond  all  others.  In  the  absence  of 
faculty  having  a  corresponding  complexity,  they  cannot  be 
grasped.  Here,  however,  as  in  other  cases,  the  absence  of  an 
adequately-complex  faculty  is  not  accompanied  by  any  con- 
sciousness of  incapacity.  Rather  do  we  find  that  deficiency 
in  the  required  kind  of  mental  grasp,  is  accompanied  by  ex- 
treme confidence  of  judgment  on  sociological  questions,  and  a 
ridicule  of  those  who,  after  long  discipline,  begin  to  perceive 
what  there  is  to  be  understood,  and  how  difficult  is  the  right 
understanding  of  it.  A  simple  illustration  of  this  will  prepare 
the  way  for  more-involved  illustrations. 

A  few  months  ago  the  Times  gave  us  an  account  of  the  last 
achievement  in  automatic  printing— the  "Walter-Press,"  by 
which  its  own  immense  edition  is  thrown  off  in  a  few  hours 
every  morning.  Suppose  a  reader  of  the  description,  adequately 
familiar  with  mechanical  details,  follows  what  he  reads  step 
by  step  with  full  comprehension  :  perhaps  making  his  ideas 
more  definite  by  going  to  see  the  apiDaratus  at  work  and  ques- 
tioning the  attendants.  Now  he  goes  away  thinking  he  un- 
derstands all  about  it.  Possibly,  under  its  aspect  as  a  feat  in 
mechanical  engineering,  he  does  so.  Possibly,  also,  under 
its  biographical  aspect,  as  implying  in  Mr.  Walter  and  those 
who  co-operated  with  him  certain  traits,  moral  and  intellec- 
tual, he  does  so.  But  under  its  sociological  aspect  he  prob- 
ably has  no  notion  of  its  meaning  ;  and  does  not  even  suspect 
that  it  has  a  sociological  aspect.  Yet  if  he  begins  to  look  into 
the  genesis  of  the  thing,  he  will  find  that  he  is  but  on  the 
threshold  of  the  full  explanation.  On  asking  not  what  is 

its  proximate  but  what  is  its  remote  origin,  he  finds,  in  the 
first  place,  that  this  automatic  printing-machine  is  lineally 
descended   from   other  automatic   printing-machines,    which 


116  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

have  undergone  successive  developments — each  pre-supposing 
others  that  went  before  :  without  cylinder  printing-machines 
long  previously  used  and  improved,  there  would  have  been 
no  "Walter-Press."  He  inquires  a  step  further,  and  discovers 
that  this  last  improvement  became  possible  only  by  the  help 
of  jJapier-mdche  stereotyping,  which,  first  employed  for  mak- 
ing flat  plates,  afforded  the  possibility  of  making  >  cylindrical 
plates.  And  tracing  this  back,  he  finds  that  plaster-of-paris 
stereotyping  came  before  it,  and  that  there  was  another  pro- 
cess before  that.  Again,  he  learns  that  this  highest  form  of 
automatic  printing,  like  the  many  less-developed  forms  pre- 
ceding it,  depended  for  its  practicability  on  the  introduction 
of  rollers  for  distributing  ink,  instead  of  the  hand-implements 
used  by  "  printer's-devils  "  fifty  years  ago ;  which  rollers,  again, 
could  never  have  been  made  fit  for  their  present  purposes, 
without  the  discovery  of  that  curious  elastic  compound  out  of 
which  they  are  cast.  And  then,  on  tracing  the  more  remote 
antecedents,  he  finds  an  ancestry  of  hand  in-inting-presses, 
which,  through  generations,  had  been  successively  im- 
proved. Now,  perhaps,  he  thinks  he  understands  the  ap- 
paratus, considered  as  a  sociological  fact.  Far  from  it.  Its 
miiltitudinous  parts,  which  will  work  together  only  when 
highly  finished  and  exactly  adjusted,  came  from  machine- 
shops  ;  where  there  are  varieties  of  complicated,  highly-fin- 
ished engines  for  turning  cylinders,  cutting  out  wheels,  plan- 
ing bars,  and  so  forth  ;  and  on  the  prc-existcnce  of  these  the 
existence  of  this  printing-machine  depended.  If  he  inquires 
into  the  history  of  these  complex  automatic  tools,  he  finds  they 
have  severally  been,  in  the  slow  course  of  mechanical  progress, 
brought  U)  their  present  perfection  by  the  help  of  ])reoedijig 
complex  automatic  tools  of  various  kinds,  that  co-oporalod  to 
iiiiike  tlu'ir  component  parts — each  larger,  or  inore  accurate, 
latbe  or  ])laning-machine  having  b('(>n  niad<>  i)()ssiblo  by  pre- 
existing latlies  and  planing-inacbines,  inferior  in  size  or  exact- 
ness. And  so  if  lie  traces  back  tlie  whole  eontenfs  of  <lie 
inacliiue-sbop,  with  its  many  diU'ereiit  instruments,  he  comes 
in  course  of  time  to  tiie  blacksmith's  hammer  and  anvil  ;  and 
even,  eventually,  to  still  ruder  ap])liances.  Th(>  explana- 
tion is  now  eom])leti'(l,  he  thinks.  Not  at  all.  No  such  ])ro- 
cess  as  that  which  the  "  Walter-Pi'ess  "  shows  us,  wius  possible 


SUBJECTIVE  DIPPIUULTIES— INTELLECTUAL.      II7 

until  there  had  been  invented,  and  slowly  perfected,  a  pajier- 
machine  capable  of  making  miles  of  paper  without  break. 
Thus  there  is  the  genesis  of  the  paper-machine  involved,  and 
that  of  the  multitudinous  appliances  and  devices  which  pre- 
ceded it,  and  are  at  present  implied  by  it.  Have  we  now 
got  to  the  end  of  the  matter  ?    No  ;  we  have  just  glanced  at 
one  group  of  the  antecedents.     All  this  development  of  me- 
chanical appliances — this  growth  of  the  iron-manufacture,  this 
extensive  use  of  machinery  made  from  iron,  this  production 
of  so  many  machines  for  making  machines — has  had  for  one 
of  its  causes  the  abundance  of  the  raw  materials,  coal  and 
iron ;  has  had  for  another  of  its  causes  the  insular  position 
which  has  favoured  peace  and  the  increase  of  industrial  ac- 
tivity.    There  have  been  moral  causes  at  work  too.     Without 
that  readiness  to  sacrifice  present  ease  to  future  benefit,  which 
is  implied  by  enterprise,  there  would  never  have  arisen  the 
machine  in  question, — nay,  there  would  never  have  arisen  the 
multitudinous  improved  instruments  and  processes  that  have 
made  it  possible.     And  beyond  the  moral  traits  which  enter- 
prise pre-supj)oses,  there  are  those  pre-supposed  by  efficient 
co-operation.     Without  mechanical  engineers  who   fulfilled 
their  contracts  tolerably  well,  by  executing  work  accurately, 
neither  this  machine  itself  nor  the  machines  that  made  it,  could 
have  been  produced  ;  and  without  artizans  having  consider- 
able conscientiousness,  no  master  could  insure  accurate  work. 
Try  to  get  such  products  out  of  an  inferior  race,  and  you  will 
find  defective  character  an  insuperable  obstacle.     So,  too,  will 
you  find  defective  intelligence  an  insuperable  obstacle.     The 
skilled  artizan  is  not  an  accidental  product,  either  morally  or 
intellectually.     The   intelligence   needed   for  making  a  new 
thing  is   not  everywhere  to  be   found  ;  nor  is  there  every- 
where to  be  found  the  accuracy  of  perception  and  nicety  of 
execution  without  which  no  complex  machine  can  be  so  made 
that  it  will  act.     Exactness  of  finish  in  machines  has  devel- 
oped pari  passu  with  exactness  of  perception  in  artizans.     In- 
spect some  meclianical  appliance  made  a  century  ago,  and 
you  may  see  that,  even  had  all  other  requisite  conditions  been 
fulfilled,  want  of  the  requisite  skill  in  workmen  would  have 
been  a  fatal  obstacle  to  the  production  of  an  engine  requiring 
so  many  delicate  adjustments.     So  that  there  are  implied  in 


118  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

this  mechanical  achievement,  not  only  our  slowly-generated 
industrial  state,  with  its  innumerable  products  and  processes, 
but  also  the  slowly-moulded  moral  and  intellectual  natures  of 
masters  and  workmen.  Has  nothing  now  been  forgotten  ? 

Yes,  we  have  left  out  a  whole  division  of  all-important  social 
phenomena — those  which  we  group  as  the  progress  of  knowl- 
edge. Along  with  the  many  other  developments  that  have 
been  necessary  antecedents  to  this  machine,  there  has  been 
the  development  of  Science.  The  gi-owing  and  improving 
arts  of  all  kinds,  have  been  helped  up,  step  after  step,  by  those 
generalized  experiences,  becoming  ever  wider,  more  complete, 
more  exact,  which  make  up  what  we  call  Mathematics,  Phys- 
ics, Chemistry,  &c.  Without  a  considerably-developed  Ge- 
ometry, there  could  never  have  been  the  machines  for  mak- 
ing machines  ;  still  less  this  machine  that  has  proceeded  from 
them.  Without  a  developed  Physics,  there  would  have  been 
no  steam-engine  to  move  these  various  automatic  appliances, 
primary  and  secondary  ;  nor  would  the  man}'  implied  metal- 
lurgic  processes  have  been  brought  to  the  needful  perfection. 
And  in  the  absence  of  a  developed  Chemistry,  many  other 
reqviirements,  direct  and  indirect,  could  not  have  been  ade- 
quately fulfilled.  So  that,  in  fact,  this  organization  of  knowl- 
edge which  began  witli  civilization,  had  to  reach  something 
like  its  present  stage  before  such  a  machine  could  come  into 
existence ;  supposing  all  other  pre-requisites  to  be  satis- 
fied. Surely  we  have  now  got  to  tlic  end  of  the  history. 
Not  quite :  there  yet  remains  an  essential  factor.  No  one 
goes  on  year  after  year  spending  thousands  of  pounds  and 
much  time,  and  persevering  through  disappointment  and 
anxiety,  witliout  a  strong  motive:  the  "  Waltor-Pro.ss  "  was 
not  a  mere  tour  de  force.  Why,  then,  was  it  produced  ?  To 
meet  an  immense  demand  with  great  promj)tness — to  print, 
witli  one  niacliine,  10,000  copies  per  hour.  Whence  arises  tliis 
demand  ?  From  an  ext(>nsive  reading  public,  brouglit  in  the 
course  of  gem^rations  lo  liave  a  keen  m(»rning-ap])etif(^  for 
news  of  all  kinds— mcrcliants  wlio  need  to  know  Die  lat(>st 
prices  at  home  and  tlic  l;itest  telegrams  fi-oin  ;il)ro;nl  :  ])oliti- 
cians  who  must  learn  the  result  of  last  night's  division,  be 
inforiiicd  of  tlic  new  (lijdoMialic  move,  and  rc'id  Die  sjicim-Ik'S 
at  a  meeting  ;  sporting  men  who  look  for  the  odds  and  the 


SUBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES— INTELLECTUAL.      HO 

result  of  yesterday's  race  ;  ladies  who  want  to  see  the  births, 
marriages,  and  deaths.  And  on  asking  the  origin  of  these 
many  desires  to  be  satisfied,  they  i^rove  to  be  concomitants  of 
our  social  state  in  general — its  trading,  political,  philanthropic, 
and  other  activities  ;  for  in  societies  where  these  are  not  domi- 
nant, the  demand  for  news  of  various  kinds  rises  to  no  such 
intensity.  See,  then,  how  enormously  involved  is  the  gen- 

esis of  this  machine,  as  a  sociological  phenomenon.  A  whole 
encyclopaedia  of  mechanical  inventions — some  dating  from 
the  earliest  times — go  to  the  explanation  of  it.  Thousands  of 
years  of  discipline,  by  which  the  impulsive  improvident  na- 
ture of  the  savage  has  been  evolved  into  a  comparatively  self- 
controlling  nature,  capable  of  sacrificing  present  ease  to  future 
good,  are  pre-supposed.  There  is  pre-supposed  the  equally- 
long  discipline  by  which  the  inventive  faculty,  almost  wholly 
absent  in  the  savage,  has  been  evolved  ;  and  by  which  accu- 
racy, not  even  conceived  by  the  savage,  has  been  cultivated. 
And  there  is  further  pre-supposed  the  slow  political  and  social 
progress,  at  once  cause  and  consequence  of  these  other 
changes,  that  has  brought  us  to  a  state  in  which  such  a  ma- 
chine finds  a  function  to  fulfil. 

Tlie  complexity  of  a  sociological  fact,  and  the  difficulty  of 
adequately  grasping  it,  will  now  perhaps  be  more  apparent. 
For  as  in  this  case  there  has  been  a  genesis,  so  has  there  been 
in  every  other  case,  be  it  of  institution,  arrangement,  custom, 
belief,  &c.  •  but  while  in  this  case  the  genesis  is  comparatively 
easy  to  trace,  because  of  the  comparatively-concrete  character 
of  process  and  product,  it  is  in  other  cases  difficult  to  trace,  be- 
cause the  factors  are  mostly  not  of  sensible  kinds.  And  yet 
only  when  the  genesis  has  been  traced — only  when  the  ante- 
cedents of  all  orders  have  been  observed  in  their  co-operation, 
generation  after  generation,  through  past  social  states — is  there 
reached  that  interpretation  of  a  fact  which  makes  it  a  part  of 
sociological  science,  properly  understood.  If,  for  instance,  the 
true  meaning  of  such  phenomena  as  those  presented  by  trade- 
combinations  is  to  be  seen,  it  is  needful  to  go  back  to  those 
remote  Old-English  periods  when  analogous  causes  produced 
analogous  results.     As  Brentano  points  out — 

"The  workmen  formed  their  Trade- Unions  against  the  aggressions 
of  the  then  rising  manufacturing  lords,  as  in  carHer  times  the  old 


120  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

freemen  formed  their  Frith-Gilds  against  the  tyranny  of  medieval 
magnates,  and  the  free  handicraftsmen  their  Craft-Gilds  against  the 
ajygressions  of  the  Old-burghers."  ' 

Then,  having  studied  the  successive  forms  of  such  organiza- 
tions in  relation  to  the  successive  industrial  states,  there  have 
to  be  observed  the  vpays  in  which  they  are  severally  related  to 
other  phenomena  of  their  respective  times — the  political  in- 
stitutions, the  class-distinctions,  the  family-arrangements,  the 
modes  of  distribution  and  degrees  of  intercourse  between 
localities,  the  amounts  of  knowledge,  the  religious  beliefs,  the 
morals,  the  sentiments,  the  customs,  the  ideas.  Considered  as 
parts  of  a  nation,  having  structures  tliat  form  parts  of  its  struc- 
ture, and  actions  that  modify  and  are  modified  by  its  actions, 
these  trade-societies  can  have  their  full  meanings  perceived, 
only  when  they  are  studied  in  their  serial  genesis  through 
many  centuries,  and  their  changes  considered  in  relation  to 
simultaneous  changes  throughout  the  social  organism.  And 
even  then  there  remains  the  deeper  inquiry — How  does  it  hap- 
pen that  in  nations  of  certain  types  no  analogous  institutions 
exist,  and  that  in  nations  of  other  types  the  analogous  institu- 
tions have  taken  forms  more  or  less  different  ? 

That  i)henomena  so  involved  cannot  be  seen  as  they  truly 
are,  even  by  the  highest  intelligence  at  present  existing,  is 
tolerably  manifest.  And  it  is  manifest  also  that  a  Science  of 
Society  is  likely  for  a  long  time  hence  to  be  recognized  by  but 
few ;  since,  not  only  is  there  in  most  cases  an  absence  of 
faculty  complex  enough  to  grasp  its  complex  phenomena,  but 
there  is  mostly  an  absolute  unconsciousness  that  there  are  any 
such  complex  phenomena  to  be  grasped. 

To  the  want  of  due  comjilexity  of  conceptive  faculty,  has 
to  be  added,  as  a  further  dilliculty,  the  want  of  due  plasticity 
of  conceptive  faculty.  The  general  ideiis  of  nearly  all  men 
have  been  fr.iiiK'd  out  of  ex))eri('nces  gathered  within  <'oni- 
j)arativ('ly-n:irro\v  areas;  and  general  ideas  so  framed  a i-e  far 
too  rigid  readily  to  admit  the  multitiKlinous  and  varied  com- 
binations of  facts  wliicli  Sociology  i)resents.  Tlie  child  of  Puri- 
tanic i)areiits,  brought  uj)  in  the  Ijclief  that  Sabhath-breaking 
brings  aft<'r  it  all  kinds  of  transgressions,  and  having  had 
pointed   out,  in    the   village  <^)r  small   town  that  formed  his 


SUBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES— INTELLECTUAL.      121 

world,  various  instances  of  this  connection,  is  somewhat  per- 
plexed in  after-years,  when  acquaintance  with  more  of  his 
countrymen  has  shown  him  exemplary  lives  joined  with  non- 
observance  of  the  Sunday.  When  during  continental  travel 
he  finds  that  the  best  people  of  foreign  societies  neglect  in- 
junctions which  he  once  thought  essential  to  right  conduct, 
he  still  further  widens  his  originally  small  and  stiff  concep- 
tion. Now  the  process  thus  exemplified  in  the  change  of  a 
single  superficial  belief,  has  to  be  gone  through  with  numer- 
ous beliefs  of  deeper  kinds,  before  there  can  be  reached  the 
flexibility  of  thought  required  for  dealing  properly  with  socio- 
logical phenomena.  Not  in  one  direction,  but  in  most  direc- 
tions, we  have  to  learn  that  those  connexions  of  social  facts 
which  we  commonly  regard  as  natural  and  even  necessary, 
are  not  necessary,  and  often  have  no  particular  naturalness. 
On  contemplating  past  social  states,  we  are  continually  re- 
minded that  many  arrangements,  and  practices,  and  convic- 
tions, that  seem  matters  of  course,  are  very  modern  ;  and  that 
others  which  we  now  regard  as  impossible  were  quite  possible 
a  few  centuries  ago.  Still  more  on  studying  societies  alien  in 
race  as  well  as  in  stage  of  civilization,  we  perpetually  meet 
with  things  contrary  to  everything  we  should  have  thought 
probable,  and  even  such  as  we  should  have  scarcely  hit  upon 
in  trying  to  conceive  the  most  unlikely  things. 

Take  in  illustration  the  varieties  of  domestic  relations. 
That  monogamy  is  not  the  only  kind  of  marriage,  we  are 
early  taught  by  our  Bible-lessons.  But  though  the  conception 
of  polygamy  is  thus  made  somewhat  familiar,  it  does  not 
occur  to  us  that  polyandry  is  also  a  possible  arrangement ; 
and  we  are  surprised  on  first  learning  that  it  exists,  and  was 
once  extremely  general.  When  we  contemplate  these  marital 
institutions  unlike  our  own,  we  cannot  at  first  imagine  that 
they  are  practised  with  a  sense  of  propriety  like  that  with 
which  we  practise  ours.  Yet  Livingstone  narrates  that  in  a 
tribe  bordering  one  of  the  Central  African  lakes,  the  women 
were  quite  disgusted  on  hearing  that  in  England  a  man  has 
only  one  wife.  This  is  a  feeling  by  no  means  peculiar  to 
them. 

"  An  intelligent  Kandyan  chief  with  whom  Mr.  Bailey  visited  these 
Veddahs  was  '  perfectly  scandalised  at  the  utter  barbarism  of  living 


122  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

■with  only  one  wife,  and  never  parting  until  separated  by  death.'  It 
■was,  he  said,  'just  like  the  wanderoos  '  (monkeys)."  ^ 
Again,  one  would  suppose  that,  as  a  matter  of  course,  mo- 
nogamy, polygamy,  and  polyandry,  in  its  several  varieties,  ex- 
liausted  the  possible  forms  of  marriage.  An  utterly-unex- 
pected form  is  furnished  us  by  one  of  the  Arabian  tribes. 
Marriage,  among  them,  is  for  so  many  days  in  the  "week — 
commonly  for  four  days  in  the  week,  which  is  said  to  be  "  the 
custom  in  the  best  families  : "  the  wife  during  the  oli'-days  be- 
ing regarded  as  an  independent  woman  who  may  do  what  she 
pleases.  We  are  a  little  surprised,  too,  on  i*eading  that  by 
some  of  the  Hill-tribes  of  India,  unfaithfulness  on  the  part  of 
the  husband  is  held  to  be  a  grave  offence,  but  unfaithfulness 
on  the  part  of  the  Avdfe  a  trivial  one.  We  assume,  as  self-evi- 
dent, that  good  usage  of  a  wife  by  a  husband,  implies,  among 
other  things,  absence  of  violence  ;  and  hence  it  seems  scarcely 
imaginable  that  in  some  places  the  opposite  criterion  holds. 
Yet  it  does  so  among  the  Tartars. 

"  A  nursemaid  of  mine  left  me  to  be  married,  and  some  short  time 
after  she  went  to  the  Natchahiick  of  the  place  to  make  a  complaint 
against  her  husband.  He  inquired  into  the  matter,  when  she  coolly 
told  him  her  husband  did  not  love  her.  lie  asked  how  she  knew  he 
did  not  love  her ;  '  Because,'  she  replied,  '  he  never  whipped  her.' "  ^ 
A  statement  which  might  be  rejected  as  incredible  were  it 
not  for  the  analogous  fact  that,  among  the  South-African 
races,  a  white  master  who  does  not  thra.sh  his  men,  is  ridi- 
culed and  reproached  by  them  as  not  worthy  to  be  called  a 
master.  Among  domestic  customs,  again,  who,  if  he  had  been 
set  to  imagine  all  possible  anomalies,  would  have  hit  upon 
that  which  is  found  among  the  Basques,  and  has  existed 
among  other  races — the  custom  that  on  the  birth  of  a  child 
the  husband  goes  to  bed  and  receives  the  congratulations  of 
fri<'iuls,  while  his  wife  returns  to  her  household  work  ?  Or 
wlio,  among  the  results  of  having  a  son  l)orn,  would  dream  of 
that  which  occurs  among  some  Polynesian  races,  where  the 
father  is  forthwith  dispos.sessed  of  his  ])roi)erty,  and  becomes 
simply  a  guardian  of  it  on  behalf  of  the  infant  ?  The  vari(>ties 
of  filial  relations  and  of  acconi])anying  sentiments,  continually 
slxivv  us  tilings  (-(jually  strange,  and  ;if  lirst  sight  equally  unac- 
countable.    No  one  would  imagine  that  it  might  anywhei'c  be 


SUBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES— INTELLECTUAL.      123 

thought  a  duty  on  the  part  of  children  to  bury  tlieir  parents 
alive.  Yet  it  is  so  thoug'ht  among-  the  Fijians  ;  of  wliom  we 
read  also  that  the  ijarents  thus  put  out  of  the  way,  go  to  their 
graves  with  smiling-  faces.  Scarcely  less  incredible  does  it 
seem  that  a  man's  atTection  should  be  regarded  as  more  fitly 
shown  towards  the  children  of  others  than  towards  his  own 
children.     Yet  the  Hindus  of  Malabar  supply  an  example. 

Among  the  Nairs  "  every  man  looks  upon  his  sister's  children  as  his 
heirs,  .  .  .  and  he  would  be  considered  as  an  unnatural  monster 
werehetoshowsuchsignsof  grief  at  the  death  of  a  child  which  .  .  . 
he  might  suppose  to  be  his  own,  as  he  did  at  the  death  of  a  child  of  his 
sister."  "» 

"The  philoprogenitiveness  of  philosophical  Europe  is  a  strange 
idea,  as  well  as  term,  to  the  Nair  of  Malabar,  who  learns  with  his 
earliest  mind  that  his  uncle  is  a  nearer  relation  to  him  than  his  father, 
and  consequently  loves  his  nephew  much  more  than  his  son."  " 

When,  in  the  domestic  relations,  we  meet  with  such  varie- 
ties of  law,  of  custom,  of  sentiment,  of  belief,  thus  indicated 
by  a  few  examples  which  might  be  indefinitely  multiplied,  it 
may  be  imagined  how  multitudinous  are  the  seeming-  incon- 
gruities among  the  social  relations  at  large.  To  be  made  con- 
scious of  these,  however,  it  is  not  needful  to  study  uncivilized 
tribes,  or  alien  races  partially  civilized.  If  we  look  back  to 
the  earlier  stages  of  European  societies,  we  find  abundant 
proofs  that  social  phenomena  do  not  necessarily  hang  together 
in  ways  such  as  our  daily  experiences  show  us.  Religious 
conceptions  may  be  taken  in  illustration. 

The  grossness  of  these  among  civilized  nations  as  they  at 
present  exist,  might,  indeed,  pi'epare  us  for  their  still  greater 
grossness  during  old  times.  When,  close  to  Boulogne,  one 
passes  a  crucifix,  at  the  foot  of  which  lies  a  heap  of  moulder- 
ing crosses,  each  made  of  two  bits  of  lath  nailed  together,  de- 
posited by  passers-by  in  the  expectation  of  Divine  favour  to 
be  so  gained,  one  cannot  but  have  a  sense  of  strangeness  on 
glancing  at  the  adjacent  railway,  and  on  calling  to  mind  the 
achievements  of  the  French  in  science.  Still  more  may  one 
marvel  on  finding,  as  in  Spain,  a  bull-flglit  got  up  in  the  in- 
terest of  the  Church — the  proceeds  being  devoted  to  a  "  Holy 
House  of  Mercy  ! "  And  yet  great  as  seem  the  incongruities 
between  religious  beliefs  and   social  states  now  displayed, 


124  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

more  astonishing  incongruities  are  disclosed  on  going  far 
back.  Consider  the  conceptions  implied  by  sundry  mystery- 
plays  ;  and  remember  that  they  were  outgrowths  from  a  the- 
ory of  the  Divine  government,  which  men  were  afterwards 
burnt  for  rejecting.  Payments  of  wages  to  actors  are  entered 
thus  : — 

"  Imprimis,  to  God,  ij'- 
Item,         to  Cayphas,  iij'-  iiij'*- 

Item,         to  one  of  the  knights,  ij'- 
Item,         to  the  devyll  and  to  Judas,  xviij'*- 
"  We  have  frequently  such  entries  as :  '  Item,  payd  for  the  spret  (spirit) 
God's  cote,  ij'- '    "We  learn  from  these  entries  that  God's  coat  was  of 
leather,  painted  and  gilt,  and  that  he  had  a  wig  of  false  hair,  also 
gilt."  '2 

"  Even  the  Virgin's  conception  is  made  a  subject  of  ribaldry ;  and 
in  the  Coventry  collection  we  have  a  mystery,  the  play,  on  the  subject  of 
her  pretended  trial.  It  opens  with  tlie  appearance  of  the  somnour,  who 
reads  a  long  list  of  offences  that  appear  in  his  book  ;  then  come  two 
'  detractors  '  who  repeat  certain  scandalous  stories  relating  to  Joseph 
and  Mary,  upon  the  strength  of  which  they  are  summoned  to  appear 
before  the  ecclesiastical  court.  They  are  accordingly  put  upon  their 
trial,  and  we  have  a  broad  picture  of  the  proceedings  in  such  a  case," 

Again,  on  looking  into  the  illuminated  missals  of  old  times, 
there  is  revealed  a  mode  of  conceiving  Christian  doctrine 
which  it  is  difficult  to  imagine  as  current  in  a  civilized,  or 
even  semi-civilized,  society :  instance  the  ideas  implied  by  a 
highly-finished  figure  of  Christ,  from  whose  wounded  side  a 
stream  of  wafers  spouts  on  to  a  salver  held  by  a  priest.  Or 
take  a  devotional  l)ook  of  later  date — a  printed  ]isalter  pro- 
fusely illustrated  with  woodcuts  representing  incidcnls  in  tlie 
life  of  Christ.  Page  after  page  exhibits  ways  in  wbicli  liis 
sacrifice  is  utilized  after  a  perfectly-material  manner.  Here 
arc  shown  vines  growing  out  of  liis  wounds,  and  tlie  grapes 
llie.se  vines  bear  are  being  devounnl  by  l)islio])s  and  abbesses. 
Here  the  cross  is  fixed  on  a  large  barrel,  into  which  his  blood 
falls  in  torrents,  and  out  of  which  tlicn'  i.ssue'jets  on  to  groups 
of  ecclesiastics.  /\ud  In'rc,  his  body  hciiig  r<'])re.seiited  '\n  a 
liorizoutal  jxjsitioii,  tlierc  rise  from  the  wounds  in  lii.s  hands 
and  feet  fountiiins  of  blood,  which  i)riests  and  nuns  are  col- 


SUBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES— INTELLECTUAL.      125 

lecting  in  buckets  and  jars.  Nay,  even  more  astonishing  is 
the  mental  state  implied  by  one  of  the  woodcuts,  which  tries 
to  aid  the  devotional  reader  in  conceiving  tiie  Trinity,  by  rep- 
resenting three  persons  standing  in  one  pair  of  boots  I " 
Quite  in  harmony  with  these  astoundingly-gross  conceptions 
are  the  conceptions  implied  by  the  popular  literature.  The 
theological  ideas  that  grew  up  in  times  when  Papal  authority 
was  supreme,  and  before  the  sale  of  indulgences  had  been  pro- 
tested against,  may  be  judged  from  a  story  contained  in  the 
Folk-lore  collected  by  the  Brothers  Grimm,  called  "  The  Tailor 
in  Heaven."  Here  is  an  abridged  translation  that  has  been 
made  for  me  : — 

"  God,  having  one  day  gone  out  with  the  saints  and  the  apostles  for 
a  walk,  left  Peter  at  the  door  of  heaven  with  strict  orders  to  admit  no 
one.  Soon  after  a  tailor  came  and  pleaded  to  be  let  in.  But  Peter 
said  that  God  had  forbidden  any  one  to  be  admitted ;  besides,  the  tailor 
was  a  bad  character,  and  '  cabbaged '  the  cloth  he  iised.  The  tailor 
said  the  pieces  he  had  taken  were  small,  and  had  fallen  into  his  basket ; 
and  he  was  willing  to  make  himself  useful — he  would  carry  the  babies, 
and  wash  or  mend  the  clothes.  Peter  at  last  let  him  in,  but  made  him 
sit  down  in  a  corner,  behind  the  door.  Taking  advantage  of  Peter's 
going  outside  for  a  minute  or  two.  the  tailor  left  his  seat  and  looked 
about  him.  He  soon  came  to  a  place  where  there  were  many  stools, 
and  a  chair  of  massive  gold  and  a  golden  footstool,  which  were  God's. 
Climbing  up  on  the  chair,  he  could  see  all  that  was  happening  on  the 
earth ;  and  he  saw  an  old  woman,  who  was  washing  clothes  in  a  stream, 
making  away  with  some  of  the  linen.  In  his  anger,  he  took  up  the 
footstool  and  threw  it  at  her.  As  he  could  not  get  it  back,  he  thought 
it  best  to  return  to  his  place  behind  the  door,  where  he  sat  down,  put- 
ting on  an  air  of  innocence.  God  now  re-entered,  without  observing 
the  tailor.  Finding  his  footstool  gone,  he  asked  Peter  what  had  be- 
come of  it— had  he  let  anyone  in?  The  apostle  at  first  evaded  the 
question,  but  confessed  that  he  had  let  in  one — only,  however,  a  poor 
limping  tailor.  The  tailor  was  then  called,  and  asked  what  he  had 
done  with  the  footi^tool.  When  he  had  told,  God  said  to  him : — '  0 
you  knave,  if  I  judged  like  you,  how  long  do  you  think  you  would 
have  escaped  ?  For  long  ago  I  should  not  have  had  a  chair  or  even  a 
poker  left  in  the  place,  but  should  have  hurled  everything  at  the  sin- 


"  15 


These  examples,  out  of  multitudes  that  might  be  given, 
show  the  wide  limits  of  variation  within  which  social  phe- 


126  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

nomena  range.  When  we  bear  in  mind  that,  along  with  the- 
ological ideas  that  now  seem  little  above  those  of  savages, 
there  went  (in  England)  a  political  constitution  having  out- 
lines like  the  present,  an  established  body  of  laws,  a  regular 
taxation,  an  emancipated  working-class,  an  industrial  system 
of  considerable  complexity,  with  the  general  intelligence  and 
mutual  trust  implied  by  social  co-operations  so  extensive  and 
involved,  we  see  that  there  are  possibilities  of  combination  far 
more  nimierous  than  we  are  apt  to  suppose.  There  is  proved 
to  us  the  need  for  greatly  enlarging  those  stock-notions  which 
are  so  fh'mly  established  in  us  by  dailj'  observations  of  sur- 
rounding ai'rangements  and  occm'rences. 

We  might,  indeed,  even  if  limited  to  the  evidence  which 
our  own  society  at  the  present  time  supplies,  gi'eatly  increase 
the  plasticity  of  our  conceptions,  did  we  contemplate  the  facts 
as  they  really  are.  Could  we  nationally,  as  well  as  individu- 
ally, "  see  ourselves  as  others  see  us,"  we  might  find  at  home 
seeming  contradictions,  sufficient  to  show  us  that  what  we 
think  necessarily-connected  traits  are  by  no  means  necessarily 
connected.  We  might  learn  from  our  own  institutions,  and 
books,  and  journals,  and  debates,  that  while  there  are  certain 
constant  relations  among  social  phenomena,  they  are  not  the 
relations  commonly  supi)()sed  to  be  constant ;  and  that  when, 
from  some  conspicuous  cliaracteristic  we  infer  certain  other 
characteristics,  we  may  be  quite  wrong.  To  aid  ourselves  in 
perceiving  this,  let  us,  varying  a  somewhat  trite  mode  of  rep- 
resentation, consider  what  might  be  said  of  us  by  an  inde- 
pendent observer  living  in  the  far  future— supposing  his  state- 
ments translated  into  our  cumbrous  language. 

"Though  tlie  diagrams  used  for  teaching  make  every  child 
aware  that  many  thousands  of  years  ago  tlie  Earth's  orbit 
began  to  recede  from  its  limit  of  greatest  excenti-icity  ;  and 
t]i()u<;li  all  are  familiar  with  the  consequent  fact  that  the 
glacial  period,  which  has  so  long  made  a  large  ])art  of  the  north- 
ern hemis])here  uninhabitable,  has  passed  its  climax  ;  yet  it  is 
not  universally  known  f  hat  in  some  regions,  the  retnvit  of  gla- 
ciers luis  lately  made  a<'cessil)le,  tracts  long  covered.  Amid 
moraines  and  under  vast  accimiulations  of  dclritus,  have  been 
fniiiid  hero  ruins,  there  .semi-fossilized  skeletons,  iind  in  some 


SUBJECTIVE   DIFFICULTIES— INTELLECTUAL.      127 

places  even  records,  which,  by  a  marvellous  concurrence  of 
favourable  conditions,  have  been  so  preserved  that  parts  of 
them  remain  legible.  Just  as  fossil  cephalopods,  turned  up  by 
our  automatic  quarrying-engines,  are  sometimes  so  perfect  that 
drawings  of  them  are  made  with  the  sepia  taken  from  their 
own  ink-bags ;  so  here,  by  a  happy  chance,  there  have  come 
down  to  us,  from  a  long-extinct  race  of  men,  those  actual 
secretions  of  their  daily  life,  which  furnish  colouring  matter 
for  a  jiicture  of  them.  By  great  perseverance  our  explorers 
have  discovered  the  key  to  their  imperfectly-developed  lan- 
guage ;  and  in  course  of  years  have  been  able  to  put  together 
facts  yielding  us  faint  ideas  of  the  strange  peoples  who  lived 
in  the  northern  hemisphere  during  the  last  pre-glacial  period. 
"  A  report  just  issued  refers  to  a  time  called  by  these  peo- 
ples the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century  of  their  era ;  and  it 
concerns  a  nation  of  considerable  interest  to  us — the  English. 
Though  until  now  no  traces  of  this  ancient  nation  were  known 
to  exist,  yet  there  survived  the  names  of  certain  great  men  it 
produced — one  a  poet  whose  range  of  imagination  and  depth 
of  insight  are  said  to  have  exceeded  those  of  all  who  went 
before  him ;  the  other,  a  man  of  science,  of  whom,  profound 
as  we  may  suppose  in  many  ways,  we  know  definitely  this, 
that  to  all  nations  then  living,  and  that  have  since  lived,  he 
taught  how  this  Universe  is  balanced.  What  kind  of  peojile 
the  English  were,  and  what  kind  of  civilization  they  had, 
have  thus  always  been  questions  exciting  curiosity.  The 
facts  disclosed  by  this  report,  are  scared}^  like  those  antici- 
pated. Search  was  first  made  for  traces  of  these  great 
men,  who,  it  was  supposed,  would  be  conspicuously  com- 
memorated. Little  was  found,  however.  It  did,  indeed,  ap- 
pear that  the  last  of  them,  who  revealed  to  mankind  the 
constitution  of  the  heavens  had  received  a  name  of  honour 
like  that  which  they  gave  to  a  successful  trader  who  pre- 
sented an  address  to  their  monarch  ;  and  besides  a  tree  planted 
in  his  memory,  a  small  statue  to  their  great  poet  had  been  put 
up  in  one  of  their  temples,  where,  however,  it  was  almost  lost 
among  the  many  and  large  monuments  to  their  fighting 
chiefs.  Not  that  commemorative  structures  of  magnitude 
were  never  erected  by  the  English.  Our  explorers  discovered 
traces  of  a  gigantic  one,  in  which,  apparently,  persons  of  dis- 
10 


128  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

tinction  and  deputies  from  all  nations  were  made  to  take  part 
in  honouring  some  being — man  he  can  scarcely  have  been. 
For  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  that  any  man  could  liave  had  a 
worth  transcendent  enough  to  draw  from  them  such  extreme 
homage,  when  they  thought  so  little  of  those  by  whom  their 
name  as  a  race  has  been  saved  from  oblivion.  Their  dis- 

tribution of  monumental  honours  was,  indeed,  in  all  respects 
remarkable.  To  a  physician  named  Jenner,  who,  by  a  mode 
of  mitigating  the  ravages  of  a  horrible  disease,  was  said  to 
have  rescued  many  tliousands  from  death,  they  erected  a 
memorial  statue  in  one  of  their  chief  public  places.  After 
some  years,  however,  repenting  them  of  giving  to  this  statue 
so  conspicuous  a  position,  they  banished  it  to  a  far  corner  of 
one  of  their  suburban  gardens,  frequented  chiefly  by  children 
and  nursemaids ;  and  in  its  place,  they  erected  a  statue  to  a 
gi'eat  leader  of  their  fighters — one  Napier,  who  had  helped 
them  to  conquer  and  keep  down  certain  weaker  races.  The 
reporter  does  not  tell  us  whether  this  last  had  been  instru- 
mental in  destroj^ng  as  many  lives  as  the  first  had  saved ; 
biit  he  remai'ks — '  I  could  not  cease  wojidering  at  this  strange 
substitution  among  a  people  who  professed  a  religion  of 
peace.'  This  does  not  seem  to  have  been  an  act  out  of  har- 

mony with  their  usual  acts :  quite  the  contrary.  The  records 
show  that  to  keep  up  the  remembrance  of  a  great  victorj^ 
gained  over  a  neighbouring  nation,  they  held  for  many  years 
an  annual  banquet,  much  in  the  s])irit  of  the  commemorative 
scalp-dances  of  still  more  barbarous  peoples ;  and  there  was 
never  wanting  a  priest  to  ask  on  the  banquet,  a  blessing  from 
one  they  named  the  God  of  love.  In  some  respects,  iiideed, 
their  code  of  conduct  seems  not  to  have  advanced  beyond,  but 
to  have  gone  back  from,  the  code  of  a  still  more  ancient  peo- 
ple from  whom  tli(Mr  creed  was  derived.  One  of  the  laws  of 
this  ancient  peojjlc  was.  'an  eye  for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth  for  a 
tooth  ;'  but  sundry  laws  of  the  English,  esiiocially  those  con- 
cerning a<"ls  that  interfered  with  some  so-CMJlcd  sjiorts  of  their 
ruling  cla.sses,  inflicted  penalties  which  iiii|)ly  that  their  prin- 
ciple had  become  'a  leg  for  an  eye,  and  an  arm  for  a  tooth.' 
The  r<'lations  <>f  their  creed  to  the  creed  of  this  ancient  ])eo])le, 
are,  indeed.  (lilli<'ult  to  understand.  They  had  at  one  time 
cru(dly  persecuted  this  ancient  i)eople — Jews  they  were  called 


SUBJECTIVE   DIFFICULTIES— INTELLECTUAL.      "120 

— because  that  particular  modification  of  the  Jewish  religion 
which  they,  the  English,  nominally  adopted,  was  one  which 
the  Jews  would  not  adopt.  And  yet,  marvellous  to  relate, 
while  they  tortured  the  Jews  for  not  agreeing  with  them, 
they  substantially  agreed  with  the  Jews.  Not  only,  as  above 
instanced,  in  the  law  of  retaliation  did  they  outdo  the  Jews, 
instead  of  obeying  the  quite-opposite  principle  of  the  teacher 
they  worshipped  as  divine,  but  they  obeyed  the  Jewish  law, 
and  disobeyed  this  divine  teacher,  in  other  ways — as  in  the 
rigid  observance  of  every  seventh  day,  which  he  had  deliber- 
ately discountenanced.  Though  they  were  angry  with  those 
who  did  not  nominally  believe  in  Christianity  (which  was  the 
name  of  their  religion),  yet  they  ridiculed  those  who  really 
believed  in  it ;  for  some  few  people  among  them,  nicknamed 
Quakers,  who  aimed  to  carry  out  Christian  precepts  instead  of 
Jewish  precepts,  they  made  butts  for  their  jokes.  Nay,  more ; 
their  substantial  adhesion  to  the  creed  they  professedly  re- 
pudiated, was  clearly  demonstrated  by  this,  that  in  each  of 
their  temples  they  fixed  up  in  some  conspicuous  place,  the  ten 
commandments  of  the  Jewi.sh  religion,  while  they  rarely,  if 
ever,  fixed  up  the  two  Christian  commandments  given  instead 
of  them.  '  And  yet,'  says  the  reporter,  after  dilating  on  these 
strange  facts,  '  though  the  English  were  greatly  given  to  mis- 
sionary enterprises  of  all  kinds,  and  though  I  sought  diligently 
among  the  records  of  these,  I  could  find  no  trace  of  a  society 
for  converting  the  English  people  from  Judaism  to  Chris- 
tianity.' This  mention  of  their  missionary  enterprises 
introduces  other  remarkable  anomalies.  Being  anxious  to 
get  adherents  to  this  creed  which  they  adopted  in  name  but 
not  in  fact,  they  sent  out  men  to  various  parts  of  the  world  to 
projjagate  it — one  part,  among  others,  being  that  subjugated 
territory  above  named.  There  the  English  missionaries  taught 
the  gentle  precepts  of  their  faith ;  aud  there  the  officers  em- 
ployed by  their  government  exemplified  these  precepts :  one 
of  the  exemplifications  being  that,  to  put  down  a  riotous  sect, 
they  took  fifty  out  of  sixty-six  who  had  surrendered,  and, 
without  any  trial,  blew  them  from  the  guns,  as  they  called  it 
— tied  them  to  the  mouths  of  cannon  and  shattered  their 
bodies  to  pieces.  And  then,  curiously  enough,  having  thus 
taught  and  thus  exemplified   their  religion,  they  expressed 


130  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

great  surprise  at  the  fact  that  the  only  converts  their  mis- 
sionaries could  obtain  among  these  people,  were  hypocrites 
and  men  of  characters  so  bad  that  no  one  Avould  employ  them. 

"  Nevertheless,  these  semi-civilized  English  had  their  good 
points.  Odd  as  must  have  been  the  delusion  which  mado 
them  send  out  missionaries  to  inferior  races,  who  were  always 
ill  used  by  their  sailors  and  settlei's.  and  eventually  extirpated, 
yet  on  finding  that  they  spent  annually  a  million  of  their 
money  in  missionary  and  allied  enterprises,  we  cannot  but 
see  some  generosity  of  motive  in  them.  Their  country  was 
dotted  over  with  hospitals  and  almshouses,  and  institutions 
for  taking  care  of  the  diseased  and  indigent ;  and  their  towns 
were  overrun  with  philanthropic  societies,  which,  without 
saying  anything  about  the  wisdom  of  their  policy,  clearly 
implied  good  feeling.  They  expended  in  the  legal  relief  of 
their  poor  as  much  as,  and  at  one  time  more  than,  a  tenth 
of  the  revenue  raised  for  all  national  purposes.  One  of  their 
remarkable  deeds  was,  that  to  get  rid  of  a  btu'bai'ous  institu- 
tion of  those  times,  called  slavery,  under  wliicli,  in  their 
colonies,  certain  men  held  complete  possession  of  others,  then* 
goods,  tlieir  bodies,  and  practically  even  their  lives,  they  paid 
down  twenty  millions  of  their  money.  And  a  not  less  strik- 
ing proof  of  sympathy  was  that,  during  a  war  between  two 
neighbouring  nations,  they  contributed  large  sums,  and  sent 
out  many  men  and  women,  to  help  in  taking  care  of  the 
wounded  and  assisting  the  ruined. 

"  Tlie  facts  brought  to  light  by  these  explorations  are  thus 
extremely  in.structive.  Now  that,  after  tens  of  thousands  of 
years  of  discipline,  tlie  lives  of  men  in  society  have  become 
harmonious — now  that  character  and  conditions  have  little  by 
little  grown  into  adjustment,  we  are  apt  to  sui)posc  that  con- 
gruity  of  institutions,  conduct,  sentiments,  and  beliefs,  is  nec- 
essary. We  think  it  ahno.st  impossible  that,  in  the  same  so- 
ciety, there  should  l)e  daily  jiractised  i)rinci])]es  of  quite 
oj)j)osite  kinds  ;  and  it  .seems  to  us  scarcely  credible  that  jnen 
should  have,  or  jn-ofess  to  have,  beliefs  with  which  their  acts 
are  ab.solutely  irreconcilable.  Only  that  extremely-rare  dis- 
order, insanity,  could  (•x])lain  the  conduct  of  one  who,  know- 
ing,'- tliiit  (ire  burns,  TicvcrtlH^less  thrusts  his  li.-ind  into  the 
llanie;  and  to  insanity  al.so  we  should  a-scribc  the  behaviour 


SUBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES— II^TELLECTUAL.      131 

of  one  who,  professing  to  think  a  certain  course  morally  ris^ht, 
pursued  the  opposite  course.  Yet  the  revelations  yielded  by 
these  ancient  remains,  show  us  that  societies  could  hold  to- 
gether notwithstanding  what  we  should  think  a  chaos  of  con- 
duct and  of  opinion.  Nay  more,  they  show  us  that  it  was  pos- 
sible for  men  to  profess  one  thing  and  do  another,  without 
betraying  a  consciousness  of  inconsistency.  One  piece  of  evi- 
dence is  curiously  to  the  point.  Among  their  multitudinous 
agencies  for  beneficent  purposes,  the  English  had  a  'Naval 
and  Military  Bible  Society ' — a  society  for  distributing  copies 
of  their  sacred  book  among  their  professional  fightei's  on  sea 
and  land  ;  and  this  society  was  subscribed  to,  and  chiefly  man- 
aged by,  leaders  among  these  fighters.  It  is,  uideed,  suggested 
by  the  reporter,  that  for  these  classes  of  men  they  had  an  ex- 
purgated edition  of  their  sacred  book,  from  which  the  injunc- 
tions to  '  return  good  for  evil,'  and  to  '  turn  the  cheek  to  the 
smiter,'  were  omitted.  It  may  have  been  so ;  but,  even  if  so, 
we  have  a  remarkable  instance  of  the  extent  to  which  convic- 
tion and  conduct  may  be  diametrically  opposed,  without  any 
apparent  perception  that  they  are  opposed.  We  habitually 
assume  that  a  distinctive  trait  of  humanity  is  rational,  and 
that  rationality  involves  consistency ;  yet  here  we  find  an  ex- 
tinct race  (unquestionably  human  and  regarding  itself  as  ra- 
tional) in  which  the  inconsistency  of  conduct  and  professed 
belief  was  as  great  as  can  well  be  imagined.  Thus  we  are 
warned  against  supposing  that  what  now  seems  to  us  natural 
was  always  natural.  We  have  our  eyes  opened  to  an  error 
which  has  been  getting  confirmed  among  us  for  these  thou- 
sands of  years,  that  social  phenomena  and  the  phenomena  of 
human  natiire  necessarily  hang  together  in  the  ways  we  see 
around  us." 

Before  summing  up  what  has  been  said  under  the  title  of 
"  Subjective  difficulties— Intellectual,"  I  may  remark  that  this 
group  of  difficulties  is  separated  from  the  gi'oup  of  "  Objective 
Difficulties,"  dealt  with  in  the  last  chapter,  rather  for  the  sake 
of  convenience  than  because  the  division  can  be  strictly  main- 
tained. In  contemplating  obstacles  to  interpretation — phe- 
nomena being  on  the  one  side  and  intelligence  on  the  other — 
we  may,  as  we  please,  ascribe  failure  either  to  the  inadequacy 


132  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

of  the  intelligence  or  to  the  involved  nature  of  the  phenomena. 
An  obstacle  is  subjective  or  objective  according-  to  oxu-  point  of 
view.  But  the  obstacles  above  set  forth  arise  in  so  direct  a  way 
from  conspicuous  defects  of  human  intelligence,  that  they  may, 
more  approjiriately  than  the  preceding  ones,  be  classed  as  sub- 
jective. 

So  regarding  them,  then,  we  have  to  beware,  in  the  first  place, 
of  this  tendency  to  autoniorphic  interpr-etation  ;  or  rather,  hav- 
ing no  alternative  but  to  conceive  the  natures  of  other  men  in 
terms  furnished  by  our  ow^l  feelings  and  ideas,  we  have  to  be- 
ware of  the  mistakes  likely  hence  to  ai^ise — discounting  our  con- 
clusions as  well  as  we  can.  Further,  we  must  be  on  our  guard 
against  the  two  opposite  jDrevailing  errors  respecting  Man,  and 
against  the  sociological  errors  flowing  from  them  :  we  have  to 
get  rid  of  the  two  beliefs  that  human  nature  is  unchangeable,  and 
that  it  is  easily  changed  ;  and  we  have,  instead,  to  become  famil- 
iar with  the  conception  of  a  human  nature  that  is  changed  in  the 
slow  succession  of  generations  by  social  discijiline.  Another  ob- 
stacle not  to  be  completely  surmounted  by  any,  and  to  be  partial- 
ly surmounted  by  but  few,  is  that  resulting  from  the  want  of 
intellectual  faculty  complex  enough  to  grasp  the  extremely- 
complex  phenomena  which  Sociology  deals  with.  There  can  bo 
no  complete  conception  of  a  sociological  fact,  considered  as  a 
component  of  Social  Science,  unless  there  are  present  to  thought 
all  its  essential  factors;  and  the  power  of  keeping  them  in 
mind  with  due  clearness,  as  well  as  in  their  proper  propor- 
tions and  combinations,  has  yet  to  be  reached.  Then  beyond 
this  dilTiculty,  only  to  be  in  a  measure  overcome,  there  is  the 
furtlier  difficulty,  not  however  by  any  means  so  great,  of  en- 
larging the  conceptive  capacity;  so  that  it  may  aihnit  the 
widely-divergent  and  extremely-various  combinations  uf  social 
pbonomena.  Tliat  rigidity  of  conception  produced  in  us  by  ex- 
periences of  our  own  social  life  in  our  own  time,  has  to  be  ex- 
changed for  a  plasticity  that  can  receive  with  ease,  and  accej^t 
as  natural,  the  countless  combinations  of  social  phenomena 
utt<'rly  unlike,  and  sometimes  exactly  opposite  to,  those  we 
are  familiar  with.  Without  sucli  a  ])lasticity  tlicre  can  be  no 
proper  understanding  of  co-existing  social  slates  allied  to  our 
<i\vn,  still  less  of  ]>ast  sfx-ial  stales,  or  .social  sliilcs  of  alien  civ- 
ilized races  and  nices  in  <'urly  stages  of  developnieut. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

SUBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES — EMOTIONAL. 

That  passion  perverts  judgment,  is  an  observation  suffi- 
ciently trite;  but  the  more  general  observation  of  which  it 
should  form  part,  that  emotion  of  every  kind  and  degree  dis- 
turbs the  intellectual  balance,  is  not  trite,  and  even  where 
recognized,  is  not  duly  taken  into  account.  Stated  in  full,  the 
truth  is  that  no  propositions,  save  those  which  are  absolutely 
indifferent  to  us,  immediately  and  remotely,  can  be  contem- 
plated without  likings  and  repugnances  affecting  the  opinions 
we  form  about  them.  There  are  two  modes  in  which  our  con- 
clusions are  thus  falsified.  Excited  feelings  make  us  \vTongly 
estimate  probability ;  and  they  also  make  us  wrongly  estimate 
importance.     Some  cases  will  show  this. 

All  who  are  old  enough,  remember  the  murder  committed 
by  Miiller  on  the  North  London  Eailway  some  years  ago. 
Most  persons,  too,  will  remember  that  for  some  time  after- 
wards there  was  universally  displayed,  a  dislike  to  travelling 
by  railway  in  company  with  a  single  other  passenger — sup- 
posing him  to  be  unknown.  Though,  up  to  the  date  of  the 
murder  in  question,  countless  journeys  had  been  made  by  two 
strangers  together  in  the  same  compartment  without  evil 
being  suffered  by  either — though,  after  the  death  of  Mr. 
Briggs,  the  probabilities  were  immense  against  the  occurrence 
of  a  similar  fate  to  another  person  similarly  placed  ;  yet  there 
was  habitually  aroused  a  fear  that  would  have  been  appro- 
priate only  had  the  danger  been  considerable.  The  amount 
of  feeling  excited  was  quite  incommensurate  with  the  risk. 
While  the  chance  was  a  million  to  one  against  evil,  the  antic- 
ipation of  evil  was  as  strong  as  though  the  chance  had  been  a 
thousand  to  one  or  a  hundred  to  one.     The  emotion  of  di'ead 

133 


131  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

destroyed  the  balance  of  judgment,  and  a  rational  estimate  of 
likelihood  became  impossible ;  or  rather,  a  rational  estimate 
of  likelihood  if  formed  was  wholly  inoperative  on  conduct. 

Another  instance  was  thrust  on  my  attention  during  the 
small-pox  epidemic,  which  a  while  since  so  unaccountably 
spread,  after  twenty  years  of  compulsory  vaccination,  A  lady 
living  in  London,  sharing  in  tlie  general  trepidation,  was  ex- 
pressing her  fears  to  me.  I  asked  her  whether,  if  she  lived  in 
a  town  of  twenty  thousand  inhabitants  and  heard  of  one  per- 
son dying  of  small-pox  in  the  course  of  a  week,  she  would  be 
much  alarmed.  Naturally  she  answered,  no ;  and  her  fears 
were  somewhat  calmed  when  I  pointed  out  that,  taking  the 
whole  population  of  London,  and  the  number  of  deaths  per 
week  from  small-pox,  this  was  about  the  rate  of  mortality  at 
that  time  caused  by  it.  Yet  in  other  minds,  as  in  her  mind, 
panic  had  produced  an  entire  incapacity  for  forming  a  ra- 
tional estimate  of  the  peril.  Nay,  indeed,  so  perturbing  was 
the  emotion,  that  an  unusual  amount  of  danger  to  life  was 
imagined  at  a  time  when  the  danger  to  life  was  smaller  than 
usual.  For  the  returns  showed  that  the  mortality  from  all 
causes  was  rather  below  the  average  than  above  it.  While 
the  evidence  proved  that  the  risk  of  death  was  less  than  com- 
mon, this  wave  of  feeling  which  spread  through  societj"  pro- 
duced an  irresistible  conviction  that  it  was  uncommonly  gi'eat. 

Tliese  examples  show  in  a  clear  way,  what  is  less  clearly 
shown  of  examples  hourly  occurring,  that  the  associated  ideas 
constituting  a  judgment,  are  much  affected  in  their  relations 
to  one  another  by  the  co-existing  emotion.  Two  idesxs  will 
cohere  feebly  or  strongly,  according  as  the  correlative  nervous 
states  involve  a  feeble  or  a  strong  discharge  along  the  lines  of 
nervous  connexion  ;  and  honco  a  largo  wave  of  fooling,  imjily- 
ing  as  it  does  a  volniuinous  discharge  in  all  directions,  ren- 
ders such  two  ideas  more  coherent.  This  is  so  even  when  the 
feeling  is  not  relevant  to  the  ideas,  as  is  shown  by  the  vivid 
rocolloctions  of  trivialifios  soon  on  o<'oasi(ijis  of  groat  (>xrite- 
inent;  and  it  is  still  more  so  whon  the  fooling  is  roi(>vant — 
that  is,  when  the  proposition  formed  by  the  idoas  is  its(>lf  the 
cause  of  excitement.  Mnch  of  the  emotion  tends,  in  such  case, 
to  (lischargo  ilsolf  fhrotigh  tlio  cIliiiiioIs  coniKH'liny:  llio  olo- 
nionls  of  the  ])ropositi(>n  ;  and  prodiciito  follows  subject  with 


SUBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES— EMOTIONAL.         135 

a  persistence  out  of  all  proportion  to  that  which  is  justified  by- 
experience. 

We  see  this  with  emotions  of  all  orders.  How  greatly  ma- 
ternal affection  falsifies  a  mother's  opinion  of  her  child,  every- 
one observes.  How  those  in  love  fancy  superiorities  where 
none  are  visible  to  unconcerned  spectators,  and  remain  blind 
to  defects  that  are  conspicuous  to  all  others,  is  matter  of  com- 
mon remark.  Note,  too,  how,  in  the  holder  of  a  lottery-ticket, 
hope  generates  a  belief  utterly  at  variance  with  probability  as 
numerically  estimated;  or  how  an  excited  inventor  confi- 
dently expects  a  success  which  calm  judges  see  to  be  impossi- 
ble. That  "  the  wish  is  father  to  the  thought,"  here  so  obvi- 
ously true,  is  true  more  or  less  in  nearly  all  cases  where  there 
is  a  wish.  And  in  other  cases,  as  where  horror  is  aroused  by 
the  fancy  of  something  supernatural,  we  see  that  in  the  ab- 
sence of  wish  to  believe,  there  may  yet  arise  belief  if  violent 
emotion  goes  along  with  the  ideas  that  are  joined  together. 

Though  there  is  some  recognition  of  the  fact  that  men's 
judgments  on  social  questions  are  distorted  by  their  emotions, 
the  recognition  is  extremely  inadequate.  Political  passion, 
class-hatred,  and  feelings  of  great  intensity,  are  alone  admitted 
to  be  large  factors  in  determining  opinions.  But,  as  above 
implied,  we  have  to  take  account  of  emotions  of  many  kinds 
and  of  all  degrees,  down  to  slight  likes  and  dislikes.  For,  if 
we  look  closely  into  our  own  beliefs  on  public  affairs,  as  well 
as  into  the  beliefs  of  those  around  us,  we  find  them  to  be 
caused  much  more  by  aggregates  of  feelings  than  by  examina- 
tions of  evidence.  No  one,  even  if  he  tries,  succeeds  in  pre- 
venting the  slow  growth  of  sympathies  with,  or  antipathies 
to,  certain  institutions,  customs,  ideas,  &c. ;  and  if  he  watches 
himself,  he  will  perceive  that  unavoidably  each  new  question 
coming  before  him,  is  considered  in  relation  to  the  mass  of 
convictions  which  have  been  gradually  moulded  into  agree- 
ment with  his  sympathies  and  antipathies. 

When  the  reader  has  admitted,  as  he  must  if  he  is  candid 
with  himself,  that  his  opinion  on  any  political  act  or  proposal 
is  commonly  formed  in  advance  of  direct  evidence,  and  that 
he  rarely  takes  the  trouble  to  inquire  whether  direct  evidence 
justifies  it;  he  will  see  how  great  ai-e  those  difficulties  in  the 


136  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

way  of  sociological  science,  which  arise  from  the  various  emo- 
tions excited  by  the  matters  it  deals  with.  Let  us  note,  first, 
the  effects  of  some  emotions  of  a  general  kind,  which  we  are 
apt  to  overlook. 

The  state  of  mind  called  impatience  is  one  of  these.  If  a 
man  swears  at  some  inanimate  thing  which  he  cannot  adjust 
as  he  wishes,  or  if,  in  wintry  weather,  slipping  down  and 
hurting  himself,  he  vents  his  anger  by  damning  gi'avitation  ; 
his  folly  is  manifest  enough  to  spectators,  and  to  himself  also 
when  his  irritation  has  died  away.  But  in  the  political 
sphere  it  is  otherwise.  A  man  may  here,  in  spirit  if  not  in 
word,  damn  a  law  of  nature  without  being  himself  aware,  and 
witliout  making  othei's  aware,  of  his  absurdity. 

The  state  of  feeling  often  betrayed  towards  Political  Econ- 
omy exemplifies  this.  An  impatience  accompanying  the 
vague  consciousness  that  certain  cherished  convictions  or  pet 
schemes  are  at  vai'iance  witli  politico-economical  truths,  shows 
itself  in  contemptuous  words  applied  to  these  truths.  Know- 
ing that  liis  theory  of  government  and  plans  for  social  refor- 
mation are  discountenanced  by  it,  Mr.  Carlyle  manifests  his 
annoyance  by  calling  Political  Economy  "  the  dismal  science." 
And  among  others  thun  his  adherents,  there  are  many  belong- 
ing to  all  parties,  retrograde  and  progressive,  who  display  re- 
pugnance to  this  body  bf  doctrine  with  which  their  favourite 
theories  do  not  agree.  Yet  a  little  thouglit  might  show  them 
that  their  feeling  is  nuich  of  the  same  kind  as  would  be  scorn 
vented  by  a  perpetual-motion  schemer  against  the  principles 
of  Mechanics. 

To  see  that  these  generalizations  which  they  think  of  as 
cold  and  hard,  and  accojitablc  only  l>y  the  unsynipaOH'tic,  are 
notliing  but  slatemonts  of  certain  modes  of  action  arising  out 
of  human  nature,  which  are  no  less  beneficent  than  necessary, 
they  need  only  suppose  for  a  moment  tliat  hvunan  nature  had 
opposite  tendencies.  Imagine  that,  instead  of  i)reforring  to 
buy  things  at  low  prices,  men  habitually  prefcrri'd  to  give 
high  prices  for  tlicm  ;  and  imagine  tliat,  conversely,  sellers 
rejoiced  in  getting  low  ]>rices  instead  of  liigli  ones.  Is  it  not 
obvious  tliat  production  and  distribution  and  cxcliange,  as- 
KUining  tln'in   ])ossit)l('  under  mucIi  conditions,  would  go  on  in 


SUBJECTIVE   DIFFICULTIES— EMOTIONAL.         137 

ways  entirely  different  from  their  present  ways  ?  If  men 
went  for  each  commodity  to  a  place  where  it  was  difficult  of 
production,  instead  of  going  to  a  place  where  it  could  be  pro- 
duced easily ;  and  if  instead  of  transferring  articles  of  con- 
sumption from  one  i)art  of  a  kingdom  to  another  along  the 
shortest  routes,  they  habitually  chose  roundabout  routes,  so 
that  the  cost  in  labour  and  time  might  be  the  greatest ;  is  it 
not  clear  tliat,  could  industrial  and  commercial  arrangements 
of  any  kinds  exist,  they  would  be  so  unlike  the  present  ar- 
rangements as  to  be  inconceivable  by  us  ?  And  if  this  is  un- 
deniable, is  it  not  equally  undeniable  that  the  processes  of 
production,  distribution,  and  exchange,  as  they  now  go  on, 
are  processes  determined  by  certain  fundamental  traits  in 
human  nature  ;  and  that  Political  Economy  is  nothing  more 
than  a  statement  of  the  laws  of  these  processes  as  inevitably 
resulting  from  such  traits  ? 

That  the  generalizations  of  political  economists  are  not  all 
true,  and  that  some,  which  ai^e  true  in  the  main,  need  qualifi- 
cation, is  very  likely.  But  to  admit  this,  is  not  in  the  least  to 
admit  that  there  are  no  true  generalizations  of  this  order  to  be 
made.  Those  who  see,  or  fancy  they  see,  flaws  in  politico- 
economical  conclusions,  and  thei*eupon  sneer  at  Political 
Economy,  remind  me  of  the  theologians  who  lately  rejoiced 
so  much  over  the  discovery  of  an  error  in  the  estimation  of 
the  Sun's  distance  ;  and  thought  the  occasion  so  admirable  a 
one  for  ridiculing  men  of  science.  It  is  characteristic  of  theo- 
logians to  find  a  solace  in  whatever  shows  human  imperfec- 
tion ;  and  in  this  case  they  were  elated  because  astronomers 
discovered  that,  while  their  delineation  of  the  Solar  System 
remained  exactly  right  in  all  its  proportions,  the  absolute 
dimensions  assigned  were  too  great  by  about  one-thirtieth. 
In  one  respect,  however,  the  comparison  fails ;  for  though  the 
theologians  taunted  the  astronomers,  they  did  not  venture  to 
include  Astronomy  within  the  scope  of  their  contempt — did 
not  do  as  those  to  whom  they  are  here  compared,  who  shoAV 
contempt,  not  for  political  economists  only,  but  for  Political 
Economy  itself. 

Were  they  calm,  these  opponents  of  the  political  economists 
would  see  that  as,  out  of  certain  physical  proi^erties  of  things 
there  inevitably  arise  certain  modes  of  action,  which,  as  gen- 


138  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

eralized,  constitute  physical  science ;  so  out  of  the  properties 
of  men,  intellectual  and  emotional,  there  inevitably  arise  cer- 
tain laws  of  social  processes,  including,  among  others,  those 
througli  which  mutual  aid  in  satisfying  -wants  is  made  pos- 
sible. They  would  see  that,  but  for  these  processes,  the  laws 
of  which  Political  Economy  seeks  to  generalize,  men  would 
have  continued  in  the  lowest  stage  of  barbarism  to  the  present 
hour.  They  would  see  that  instead  of  jeering  at  the  science 
and  those  who  pursue  it,  their  coiu\se  should  be  to  show  in 
what  respects  the  generalizations  thus  far  made  are  untrue, 
and  how  they  may  be  so  expressed  as  to  correspond  to  the 
truth  more  nearly. 

I  need  not  further  exemplify  the  perturbing  influence  of 
impatience  in  sociological  inquiry.  Along  with  irrational 
hope  so  conspicuously  shown  by  every  party  having  a  new 
project  for  the  furtherance  of  human  welfare,  there  habitually 
goes  this  irrational  irritation  in  presence  of  stern  truths  which 
negative  sanguine  anticipations.  Be  it  some  way  of  remedy- 
ing the  evils  of  competition,  some  scheme  for  rendering  the 
I)ressure  of  population  less  severe,  some  method  of  organiz- 
ing a  government  so  as  to  secure  complete  equity,  some  plan 
for  reforming  men  by  teaching,  by  restriction,  by  punish- 
ment ;  anything  like  calm  consideration  of  probabilities  as 
estimated  from  experience,  is  excluded  by  this  eagerness  for 
an  immediate  result ;  and  instead  of  submission  to  the  neces- 
sities of  things,  there  comes  vexation,  felt  if  not  expi*essed, 
against  them,  or  against  those  who  point  them  out,  or  against 
both. 

That  feelings  of  love  and  hate  make  rational  judgments 
impossible  in  public  affairs,  as  in  private  all'airs,  we  can  clearly 
enough  see  in  others,  though  not  so  clearly  in  ourselves. 
Especially  can  we  see  it  when  these  others  belong  to  an  alien 
society.  France,  during  and  since  the  late  war,  has  furnished 
us  almost  daily  with  illustrations.  The  fact  that  while  the 
struggle  was  going  on,  any  foreigner  in  Paris  was  liable  to  bo 
seized  a.s  a  Prussian,  and  tlial,  if  charged  with  being  a  Prus- 
sian, ho  was  forthwith  treated  as  one,  .sufliciently  proves  tliat 
liate  makes  r:ilional  cstinialioji  of  evidence  inijiossible.  The 
marvellous    distortions    which    this    passion    produces   were 


SUBJECTIVE   DIFFICULTIES— EMOTIONAL.         I39 

abundantly  exemplified  during  the  reign  of  the  Commune ; 
and  yet  again  after  the  Commune  was  subdued.  The  "  pre- 
ternatural suspicion,"  as  Mr.  Carlyle  called  it,  which  charac- 
terized conduct  during  the  first  revolution,  characterized  con- 
duct during  the  late  catastrophe.  And  it  is  displayed  still. 
The  sayings  and  doings  of  French  political  parties,  alike  in 
the  Assembly,  in  the  press,  and  in  private  societies,  show  that 
mutual  hate  causes  mutual  misinterpretations,  fosters  false  in- 
ferences, and  utterly  vitiates  sociological  ideas. 

While,  however,  it  is  manifest  to  us  that  among  our  neigh- 
bours, strong  sympathies  and  antipathies  make  men's  views 
unreasonable,  we  do  not  perceive  that  among  ourselves  sym- 
pathies and  antiijathies  distort  judgments  in  degi-ees,  not  per- 
haps so  extreme,  but  still  in  very  great  degrees.  Instead  of 
French  opinion  on  French  affairs,  let  us  take  English  opinion 
on  French  affairs— not  affairs  of  recent  date,  but  affairs  of  the 
past.  And  instead  of  a  case  showing  how  these  feelings  fal- 
sify the  estimates  of  evidence,  let  us  take  a  case  showing  how 
they  falsify  the  estimates  of  the  relative  gravities  of  evils,  and 
the  I'elative  degrees  of  blameworthiness  of  actions. 

Feudalism  had  decayed :  its  benefits  had  died  out  and  only 
its  evils  had  survived.  While  the  dominant  classes  no  longer 
perfoi'med  their  functions,  they  continued  their  exactions  and 
maintained  their  privileges.  Seignorial  power  was  exercised 
solely  for  private  benefit,  and  at  every  step  met  the  unprivi- 
leged with  vexatious  claims  and  restrictions.  The  peasant 
was  called  from  his  heavily-burdened  bit  of  land  to  work 
gratis  for  a  neighbouring  noble,  who  gave  him  no  protection 
in  return.  He  had  to  bear  uncomplainingly  the  devouring  of 
his  crops  by  this  man's  game ;  to  hand  him  a  toll  before  he 
could  cross  the  river ;  to  buy  from  him  the  liberty  to  sell  at 
market — nay,  such  portion  of  grain  as  he  reserved  for  his  own 
use  he  could  eat  only  after  paying  for  the  grinding  of  it  at  his 
seigneur's  mill,  and  for  having  it  baked  at  his  bakehouse.  And 
then,  added  to  the  seignorial  exactions,  came  the  exactions  of 
the  Church,  still  more  mercilessly  enforced.  Town-life 

was  shackled  as  much  as  country-life.  Manufacturers  were 
hampered  by  almost  incredible  restrictions.  Government  de- 
cided on  the  persons  to  be  employed,  the  articles  to  be  made, 
the  materials  to  be  used,  the  processes  to  be  followed,  and  the 


140  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

qualities  of  the  products.  State-officers  broke  the  looms  and 
burnt  the  goods  that  were  not  made  according  to  law.  Im- 
provements were  illegal  and  inventors  were  lined.'  "Taxa- 
tion was  imposed  exclusively  on  the  industrious  classes,  and 
in  si;ch  a  manner  as  to  be  an  actual  penalty  on  produc- 
tion." '  The  currency  had  been  debased  to  one  seventy- 
third  of  its  original  value.  "  No  redress  was  obtainable  for 
any  injury  to  property  or  person  when  inflicted  by  people 
of  rank  or  court  influence."  '  And  the  ruling  power  was  upheld 
by  "spies,  false- witnesses,  and  pretended  plots."  Along 

with  these  local  tyrannies  and  universal  abuses  and  exasperat- 
ing obstacles  to  living  almost  beyond  belief,  there  had  gone 
on  at  the  governing  centre  maladministration,  corruption,  ex- 
travagance :  treasures  were  spent  in  building  vast  palaces,  and 
enormous  armies  were  sacrificed  in  inexcusable  wars.  Pro- 
fuse expendittu'e.  demanding  moi'c  than  could  be  got  from 
crippled  industry,  had  caused  a  chronic  deficit.  New  taxes 
on  the  poor  workers  brought  in  no  money,  but  only  clamour 
and  discontent ;  and  to  tax  the  rich  idlers  proved  to  be  imprac- 
ticable :  the  proposal  that  the  clergy  and  noblesse  should  no 
longer  be  exempt  from  burdens  such  as  were  borne  by  tlie 
people,  brought  from  these  classes  "  a  shriek  of  indignation 
and  astonishment."  And  then,  to  make  more  conspicuous  the 
worthlessness  of  the  governing  agencies  of  all  orders,  there  was 
the  corrupt  life  led  by  the  Court,  from  tlie  King  downwards — 
France  lying  "  with  a  harlot's  foot  on  its  neck."  Passing 

over  the  various  phases  of  the  break-up  which  ended  this  intoler- 
able state — phases  throughout  which  the  dominant  classes,  good- 
for-nothing  and  unrepentant,  strove  to  recover  their  powei*,  and, 
enlisting  foreign  rulers,  brought  upon  France  invading  armies 
— we  come  presently  to  a  time  when,  mad  with  anger  and  fear, 
tlic  ])eople  revenged  themselves  on  such  of  their  past  tor- 
mentors as  remained  among  them.  Leagued,  as  many  of 
these  woro,  with  those  of  their  order  who  were  levying  war 
against  liberatt'd  France — leagued,  as  many  others  were  sup- 
posed to  be,  with  tlaese  enemies  to  the  Republic  at  home  and 
abroad — incorrigil)k'  as  they  proved  tliemselves  by  their  plot- 
tings  and  treacheries;  there  at  h-ngtli  came  down  on  them 
tlie  September  massacres  and  tlie  Reign  oi^  Terror,  during 
which  nearly  ten  thousand  of  those  implicated,  or  supposed  to 


SUBJECTIVE   DIFFICULTIES— EMOTIONAL.  14X 

be  implicated,  were  killed  or  formally  executed.  The  Nemesis 
was  sufficiently  fearful.  Lamentable  suffering's  and  death 
fell  on  innocent  as  well  as  guilty.  Hate  and  despair  com- 
bined to  arouse  an  undistinguishing  cruelty,  and,  in  some  of 
the  leading  actors,  a  cold-blooded  ferocity.  Nevertheless,  rec- 
ognizing all  this — recognizing  also  the  truth  that  those  who 
wreaked  this  vengeance  were  intrinsically  no  better  than 
those  on  whom  it  was  wreaked — we  must  admit  that  tho 
bloodshed  had  its  excuse.  The  panic  of  a  people  threatened 
with  re-imposition  of  dreadful  shackles,  was  not  to  be  won- 
dered at.  That  the  expected  return  of  a  time  like  that  in 
which  gaunt  figures  and  haggard  faces  about  the  towns  and 
the  country,  indicated  the  social  disorganization,  should  excite 
men  to  a  blind  fury,  was  not  unnatural.  If  they  became 
frantic  at  the  thought  that  there  was  coming  back  a  state 
under  which  there  might  again  be  a  slaying  of  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  men  in  battles  fought  to  gratify  the  spite  of  a 
King's  concubine,  we  need  not  be  greatly  astonished.  And  some 
of  the  horror  expressed  at  the  fate  of  the  ten  thousand  victims, 
might  fitly  be  reserved  for  the  abominations  which  caused  it. 

From  this  partially-excusable  bloodshed,  over  which  men 
shudder  excessively,  let  us  turn  now  to  the  immeasurablj"- 
greater  bloodshed,  having  no  excuse,  over  which  they  do  not 
shudder  at  all.  Out  of  the  sanguinary  chaos  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, there  presently  rose  a  soldier  whose  immense  ability, 
joined  with  his  absolute  unscrupulousness,  made  him  now 
general,  now  consul,  now  autocrat.  He  was  untruthful  in  an 
extreme  degi-ee :  lying  in  his  despatches  day  by  day,  never 
writing  a  page  without  bad  faith,*  nay,  even  giving  to  others 
lessons  in  telling  falsehoods.^  He  professed  friendship  while 
plotting  to  betray ;  and  quite  early  in  his  career  made  the 
wolf-and-lamb  fable  his  guide.  He  got  antagonists  into  his 
power  by  promises  of  clemency,  and  then  executed  them.  To 
strike  terror,  he  descended  to  barbarities  like  those  of  the 
bloodthirsty  conquerors  of  old,  of  whom  his  career  reminds 
us :  as  in  Egypt,  when,  to  avenge  fifty  of  his  soldiers,  he  be- 
headed 2,000  fellahs,  throwing  their  headless  corpses  into  the 
Nile ;  or  as  at  Jaffa,  when  2,500  of  the  garrison  who  finally 
surrendered,  were,  at  his  order,  deliberately  massacred.  Even 
his  own  officer's,  not  over-scrupulous,  as  we  may  suppose,  were 


142  THE  STUDY   OF   SOCIOLOGY. 

shocked  by  his  brutality — sometimes  refusing  to  execute  his 
sanguinary  decrees.     Indeed,  the  instincts  of  the  savage  were 
scarcely  at  all  qualified  in  him  by  what  we  call  moral  senti- 
ments ;  as  we  see  in  his  proposal  to  burn  "  two  or  three  of  the 
larg-er  communes "  in  La  Vendee :  as  we  see  in  his  wish  to 
introduce  bull-fights  into  France,  and  to  revive  the  combats 
of  the  Roman  arena;  as  we  see  in  the  cold-blooded  sacrifice  of 
his  own  soldiers,  when  he  ordered  a  useless  outpost  attack 
merely  that  his  mistress  might  witness  an  engagement !    That 
such  a  man  should  have  prompted  the  individual  killing  of 
leading  antagonists,  and  set  prices  on  their  heads,  as  in  the 
cases  of  Mourad-Bey  and  Count  Frotte,  and  that  to  remove 
the  Due  d'Enghien  he  sliould  have  committed  a  crime  like  in 
its  character  to  that  of  one  who  hires  a  bravo,  but  unlike  by 
entailing  on  him  no  danger,  was  quite  natiu-al.     It  was  natu- 
ral, too,  that  in  addition  to  countless  treacheries  and  breaches 
of  faith  in  his  dealings  with  foreign  powers,  sucli  a  man 
should  play  the  traitor  to  his  own  nation,  by  stamping  out  its 
newly-gained  free  institutions,  and  substituting  liis  own  mili- 
tary despotism.  Such  being  the  nature  of  the  man,  and 
such  being  a  few  illustrations  of  his  cruelty  and  unscrupu- 
lousness,  contemplate  now  his  greater  crimes  and  their  mo- 
tives.   Year  after  year  he  went  on  sacrificing  by  tens  of  thou- 
sands and  hundreds  of  thousands  the  French  people  and  the 
people  of  Europe  at  large,  to  gratify  his  lust  of  power  and  his 
hatred  of  opponents.     To  feed  his  insatiable  ambition,  and  to 
crush  those  who  resisted  his  efforts  after  universal  dominion, 
he  went  on  seizing  the  young  men  of  France,  forming  army 
after  army,  that  were  destroyed    in   destroying  like  armies 
raised  by  neighbouring  nations.     In  the  Ru.ssian  cani]>aign 
alone,  out  of  552,0(10  men   in   Napoleon's  army  left  dead  or 
prisonei-s,  but  few  returned  home  :  while  the  Russian  force  of 
more  than  200.000  was  reduced  to  30,000  or  40.000  :  implying  a 
tot;il  sacrificf  of  <'()nsi(l('rably  more  than  half  a-million  lives. 
And  when  tiie  niorUility  on  both  sides  by  de^itli  in  battle,  by 
wounds,  and  by  disease,  throughout  the  Najjoleonic  campaigns 
issumnicd  up.  it  exceeds  at  tlic  lowest  comj)utatioii  two  mill- 
ions.'    And  all   this  slauglittT.  all    this  suircring,  all  this  (i«^v- 
a-station,  was  gone  through   hccause  one  man  had  a  restless 
desire  to  be  despot  over  all  men. 


SUBJF.CTIVE  DIFFICULTIES— EMOTIONAL.         143 


What  has  been  thought  and  felt  in  England  about  the 
two  sets  of  events  above  contrasted,  and  about  the  actors  in 
them  ?  The  bloodshed  of  the  Revolution  has  been  spoken  of 
with  words  of  liorror  ;  and  for  those  who  WTOught  it  there  has 
been  unqualilied  hate.  About  the  enormously-greater  blood- 
shed which  these  wars  of  the  Consulate  and  the  Empire  en- 
tailed, little  or  no  horror  is  expressed ;  while  the  feeling 
towards  the  modern  Attila  who  was  guilty  of  this  bloodshed, 
is  shown  by  decorating  rooms  with  portraits  and  busts  of 
him.     See  the  beliefs  which  these  respective  feelings  imply  : — 

Over  ten  thousand  deaths 
we  may  fitly  shudder  and  la- 
ment. 


As  the  ten  thousand  were 
slain  because  of  the  tyrannies, 
cruelties,  and  treacheries,  com- 
mitted by  them  or  their  class, 
their  deaths  are  very  pitiable. 

The  sufferings  of  the  ten 
thousand  and  of  their  rela- 
tives, who  expiated  their  own 
misdeeds  and  the  misdeeds  of 
their  class,  may  fitly  form  sub- 
jects for  heart-rending  stories 
and  pathetic  pictures. 


Two  million  deaths  call  for 
no  shuddering  or  lamenta- 
tion. 

As  the  two  millions,  inno- 
cent of  offence,  were  taken  by 
force  from  classes  already  op- 
pressed and  impoverished,  tlie 
slaughter  of  them  need  excite 
no  pity. 

There  is  nothing  heart- 
rending in  the  sufferings  of 
the  two  millions  who  died  for 
no  crimes  of  their  own  or 
their  class ;  nor  is  there  any- 
thing pathetic  in  the  fates  of 
the  families  throughout  Eu- 
rope, from  which  the  two  mill- 
ions were  taken. 

That  one  vile  man's  lust  of 
power  was  gratified  through 
the  deaths  of  the  two  millions, 
greatlj^  palliates  the  sacrifice 
of  them. 


That  despair  and  the  in- 
dignation of  a  betrayed  peo- 
ple, brought  about  this  slaugh- 
ter of  ten  thousand,  makes  the 
atrocity  without  palliation. 

These  are  the  antithetical  propositions  tacitly  implied  in 
the  opinions  that  have  been  current  in  England  about  the 
French  Revolution  and  the  Napoleonic  wars.  Only  by  ac- 
ceptance of  such  propositions  can  these  opinions  be  defended. 
Such  have  been  the  emotions  of  men  that,  until  quite  recently, 
it  has  been  the  habit  to  sjjeak  with  detestation  of  the  one  set 
of  events,  and  to  speak  of  the  other  set  of  events  in  words  be- 
ll 


144:  THE  STUDY   OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

triiying  admiration.  Nay,  even  now  these  feelings  are  but 
partially  qualified.  While  the  names  of  the  leading  actors  in 
the  Reign  of  Terror  are  names  of  execi'ation,  we  speak  of 
Napoleon  as  "  the  Great,"  and  Englishmen  worship  him  by 
visiting  his  tomb  and  taking  off  their  hats ! 

How,  then,  with  such  perverting  emotions,  is  it  possible 
to  take  rational  views  of  sociological  facts  ?  Forming,  as 
men  do,  such  astoundingly-false  conceptions  of  the  relative 
amounts  of  evils  and  the  relative  characters  of  motives,  how 
can  they  judge  truly  among  institutions  and  actions,  past  or 
present  ?  Clearly,  minds  thus  swayed  by  disproportionate 
hates  and  admirations,  cannot  frame  those  balanced  conclu- 
sions respecting  social  phenomena  which  alone  constitute 
Social  Science. 

The  sentiment  which  thus  vents  itself  in  horror  at  bad 
deeds  for  which  there  was  much  excuse,  while  to  deeds  incom- 
parably more  ch-eadful  and  without  excuse,  it  gives  applause 
very  slightly  qualified  with  blame,  is  a  sentiment  which, 
among  other  effects,  marvellously  perverts  men's  political 
conceptions.  This  awe  of  power,  by  the  help  of  which  social 
subordination  has  been,  and  still  is,  chielly  maintained — this 
feeling  which  delights  to  contemplate  the  imposing,  be  it  in 
military  successes,  or  be  it  in  the  grand  pageantries,  the  sound- 
ing titles,  and  the  sumptuous  modes  of  living  that  imply  su- 
preme autliority — this  feeling  whicli  is  olfended  by  outbreaks 
of  insvibordination  and  acts  or  words  of  the  kind  called  dis- 
loyal ;  is  a  feeling  that  inevitably  generates  delusions  respect- 
ing governments,  their  capacities,  their  achievements.  It 
transfigures  them  and  all  their  belongings  ;  as  does  every  strong 
emotion  tlie  obj(H-ts  towards  which  it  is  drawn  out.  Just  as 
matcriKil  love,  idealizing  olfspring,  sees  perfections  but  not 
defects,  and  believes  in  the  future  good  behaviour  of  a  worth- 
less son,  notwitlustanding  countless  broken  jjroinisos  of  amend- 
ment;  so  Ihis  i)o\vcr-worship  id(>aliz<"s  tlie  Stale,  a.s  embodied 
either  in  a  desix.t,  or  in  lung,  hn-ds,  and  connuons,  or  in  a  re- 
publican assembly, and  continually  liopes  in  spite  of  continual 
disM])])oin(  incuts. 

How  awe  of  jujwer  sways  men's  political  l)clicfs,  will  be 
jK-i-ceived  on  ol)scrving  h<nv   it  sways  tlici)'  religious  beliefs. 


SUBJECTIVE   DIFFICULTIES— EMOTIONAL.         I45 

We  shall  best  see  this  by  taking  an  instance  supplied  by  a 
people  whose  religious  ideas  are  extremely  crude.  Here  is  an 
abstract  of  a  description  given  by  Captain  Burton  : — 

"  A  po(  of  oil  with  a  lighted  wick  was  pluccd  every  night  by  the 
half-bred  Portuguese  Indians,  before  the  painted  doll,  the  patron  saint 
of  the  boat  in  which  we  sailed  from  Goa.  One  evening,  as  the  weather 
appeared  likely  to  be  squally,  we  observed  that  the  usual  eorapliment 
was  not  offered  to  the  patron,  and  had  the  curiosity  to  inquire  why. 
'Why!'  vociferated  the  tindal  [captain],  indignantly,  'if  that  chap 
can't  keep  the  sky  clear,  he  shall  have  neither  oil  nor  wick  from  me, 
d — n  him  !'  'But  I  should  have  supposed  that  in  the  hour  of  danger 
you  would  have  paid  him  more  than  usual  attention?'  'The  fact  is, 
Sahib,  I  have  found  out  that  the  fellow  is  not  worth  his  salt :  the  last 
time  we  had  an  infernal  squall  with  him  on  board,  and  if  he  does  not 
keep  this  one  off,  I'll  just  throw  him  overboard,  and  take  to  Santa 
Caterina ;  hang  me  if  I  don't — the  brother-in-law  ! '  "  [brother-in-law, 
a  common  term  of  insult].'' 

By  us  it  is  scarcely  imaginable  that  men  should  thus  be- 
have to  their  gods  and  demi-gods — should  pray  to  them, 
should  insult  and  sometimes  whip  them  for  not  answering 
their  prayers,  and  then  should  presently  pray  to  them 
again.  Let  us  pause  before  we  laugh.  Though  in  the  sphere 
of  religion  our  conduct  does  not  betray  such  a  contradiction, 
yet  a  contradiction  essentially  similar  is  betrayed  by  our 
conduct  in  the  political  sphere.  Perpetual  disappointment 
does  not  here  cure  us  of  perpetual  expectation.  Conceiving 
the  State-agency  as  though  it  were  something  more  than  a 
cluster  of  men  (a  few  clever,  many  ordinary,  and  some  de- 
cidedly stupid),  we  ascribe  to  it  marvellous  powers  of  doing 
multitudinous  things  which  men  otherwise  clustered  are  un- 
able to  do.  We  petition  it  to  procure  for  us  in  some  way 
which  we  do  not  doubt  it  can  find,  benefits  of  all  orders  ;  and 
pray  it  with  unfaltering  faith  to  secure  us  from  every  fresh 
evil.  Time  after  time  our  hopes  are  balked.  The  good  is  nut 
obtained,  or  something  bad  comes  along  with  it ;  the  evil  is 
not  cured,  or  some  other  evil  as  great  or  greater  is  produced. 
Our  journals,  daily  and  weekly,  general  and  local,  perpetually 
find  failures  to  dilate  upon  :  now  blaming,  and  now  ridiculing, 
first  this  department  and  then  that.  And  yet,  though  the  rec- 
tification of  blunders,  administrative  and  legislative,  is  a  main 
part  of  public  business — though  the  time  of  the  Legislature  is 


146  THE  STUOr  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

chiefly  occupied  in  amending'  and  again  amending,  until,  after 
the  many  mischiefs  implied  by  these  needs  for  amendments, 
there  often  comes  at  last  I'cpeal ;  yet  from  day  to  day  increas- 
ing numbers  of  wishes  are  expressed  for  legal  repressions  and 
State-management.  This  emotion  which  is  excited  by  the 
forms  of  governmental  power,  and  makes  governmental  power 
possible,  is  the  root  of  a  faith  that  springs  up  afresh  however 
often  cut  down.  To  see  how  little  the  perennial  confidence 
it  generates  is  diminished  by  perennial  disappointment,  we 
need  but  remind  ourselves  of  a  few  State-performances  in  the 
chief  State-departments. 

On  the  second  page  of  the  first  chapter,  by  way  of  illustrat- 
ing Admiralty-mismanagement,  brief  reference  was  made  to 
three  avoidable  catastrophes  which  had  happened  to  vessels 
of  war  witliin  the  twelvemonth.  Their  frequency  is  further 
shown  by  the  fact  that  before  the  next  chapter  was  published, 
two  others  had  occurred  :  the  Lord  Clyde  ran  aground  in  the 
Mediterranean,  and  the  Royal  Alfred  was  seven  hours  on  the 
Bahama  reef.  And  then,  more  recently  still,  we  have  had  the 
collision  of  the  Northumberland  and  Ilercides  at  Funchal, 
and  the  sinking  of  a  vessel  at  Woolwich  by  letting  a  35-ton 
gun  fall  from  the  slings  on  to  her  bottom.  That  the  au- 

tliorities  of  the  Navy  commit  errors  which  the  merchant 
service  avoids,  has  been  repeatedly  shown  of  late,  as  in  times 
past.  It  was  shown  by  the  disclosure  respecting  the  corrosion 
of  the  Glafton\s  plates,  which  proved  that  the  Admiralty  had 
not  adopted  the  efficient  protective  method.s  long  used  by  pri- 
vate shipowners.  It  \vas  sliown  when  the  loss  of  the  Ariadne^s 
sailors  made  us  aware  that  a  twenty-six  gun  frigate  bad  not 
as  many  boats  for  saving  life  as  are  proscril)ed  for  a  piusscMiger- 
slii])  of  '100  tons ;  and  that  for  lowering  her  boats  tliere  was  on 
board  neitlicr  Kynaston's  apparatus  nor  the  much  better  ap- 
paratus of  Clift'ord,  which  experience  in  tlie  merchant  service 
lias  tlioroughly  tested.  It  was  shown  by  the  non-adoption  of 
Silver's  governor  for  inarino  stoani-onginos ;  long  used  in  pri- 
vate steani-ships  lo  .save  machinery  from  breakage,  but  only 
now  being  inlr(Klueed  into  the  Navy  after  machinery  has  been 
broken.  On  going  back  a  little,  (liis  relative  inefficiency 

of  afliiiinisfralion  is  slill  more  strikingly  sbown  :— instance  tbo 
fact  that  during  the  cniinese  expedition  of  ItSll,  a  mortality  at 


SUBJECTIVE   DIFFICULTIES— EMOTIONAL,         147 

the  rate  of  three  or  four  per  day  in  a  crew  of  thi-ee  hundred, 
arose  from  drinking  muddy  water  from  the  paddy-fields, 
though,  either  by  boiling  it  or  by  filtering  it  through  charcoal, 
much  of  this  mortality  might  have  been  prevented  ;  instance 
the  fact  that,  within  the  memory  of  living  officers  (I  have  it 
from  the  mouth  of  one  who  had  the  experience),  vessels  of 
war  leaving  Deptford,  filled  their  casks  with  Thames-water 
taken  at  ebb-tide,  which  water,  during  its  subsequent  period  of 
putrefaction,  had  to  be  filtered  through  handkerchiefs  before 
drinking,  and  then  swallowed  while  holding  the  nose ;  or  in- 
stance the  accumulation  of  abominable  abuses  and  malversa- 
tions and  tyrannies  which  produced  the  mutiny  at  Spit- 
head.  But,  perhaps,  as  all  such  illustrations,  the  most 
striking  is  that  which  the  treatment  of  scurvy  furnishes.  It 
was  in  1593  that  sour  juices  were  first  recommended  by  Al- 
bertus  ;  and  in  the  same  year  Sir  R  Hawkins  cured  his  crew 
of  scurvy  by  lemon-juice.  In  IGOO  Commodore  Lancaster, 
who  took  out  the  first  squadron  of  the  East  India  Comj^any's 
ships,  kept  the  crew  of  his  own  ship  in  perfect  health  by 
lemon- juice,  while  the  crews  of  the  three  accompanying  ships 
were  so  disabled  that  he  had  to  send  his  men  on  board  to  set 
their  sails.  In  1636  this  remedy  was  again  recommended  in 
medical  works  on  scurvy.  Admiral  Wagner,  commanding 
our  fleet  in  the  Baltic  in  1726,  once  more  showed  it  to  be  a 
specific.  In  1757  Dr.  Lind,  the  physician  to  the  naval  hospital 
at  Haslar,  collected  and  published  in  an  elaborate  work,  these 
and  many  other  proofs  of  its  efficacy.  Nevertheless,  scurvy 
continued  to  carry  off  thousands  of  our  sailors.  In  1780, 
2,400  in  the  Channel  Fleet  were  affected  by  it ;  and  in  1795  the 
safety  of  the  Channel  Fleet  w^as  endangered  by  it.  At  length, 
in  that  year,  the  Admiralty  ordered  a  regular  supply  of  lemon- 
juice  to  the  na^'y.  Thus  two  centuries  after  the  remedy  was 
known,  and  forty  years  after  a  chief  medical  officer  of  the 
Government  had  given  conclusive  evidence  of  its  worth,  the 
Admiralty,  forced  thereto  by  an  exacerbation  of  the  evil,  first 
moved  in  the  matter.  And  what  had  been  the  effect  of  this 
amazing  perversity  of  oflicialism  ?  The  mortality  from 
scurvy  during  this  long  period  had  exceeded  the  mortality 
by  battles,  wrecks,  and  all  casualties  of  sea-life  put  together  !  * 
How,  through  military  administration  there  has  all  along 


148  THE  STUDY   OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

run,  and  still  runs,  a  kindred  stupidity  and  obstinictiveness, 
pages  of  examples  might  be  accimiulated  to  show.  The  de- 
bates pending  the  abolition  of  the  purchase-sj'stem  furnish 
many ;  the  accounts  of  life  at  Aldershot  and  of  autumn 
manoeu^Tes  furnish  many ;  and  many  might  be  added  in  the 
shape  of  protests  like  those  made  against  martinet  riding- 
regulations,  which  entail  ruptures  on  the  soldiers,  and  against 
"  our  ridiculous  drill-book,"  as  independent  officers  ai'e  now 
asn'eeins'  to  call  it.  Even  limiting  ourselves  to  sanitarv 
administration  in  the  army,  the  files  of  our  journals  and  the 
reports  of  our  commissions  would  yield  multitudinous  in- 
stances of  scarcely-credible  bungling — as  in  bad  barrack- 
arrangements,  of  which  we  heard  so  much  a  few  yeai-s  ago ; 
as  in  an  absurd  style  of  di'ess,  such  as  that  which  led  to  the 
wholesale  cutting-down  of  the  Twelfth  Cameronians  when 
they  arrived  in  China  in  1841 ;  as  in  the  carelessness  which 
lately  caused  the  immense  mortality  by  cholera  among  the 
18th  Hussars  at  Secunderabad,  where,  spite  of  medical  pro- 
tests repeated  ever  since  1818,  soldiers  have  continued  to  bo 
lodged  in  barracks  that  had  "  throughout  India  an  infamous 
notoriety." '  Or,  not  further  to  multiply  instances,  take  the 
long-continued  ignoring  of  ipecacuanha  as  a  specific  for 
dysentery,  which  causes  so  much  mortality  in  our  Indian 
Service : — 

"  It  is  a  singular  fact,  that  the  introducers  of  the  ipecacuanha  into 
European  practice,  the  Brazilian  traveller  jNfarcgrav,  and  the  phy- 
f^ician  Piso  (in  1648),  explicitly  i^tated  that  the  powder  is  a  spccilic 
cure  for  dysentery,  in  doses  of  a  drachm  and  upwards ;  but  that 
this  information  appears  never  to  have  been  acted  upon  till  1813, 
when  Surpeon  G.  Playfair,  of  the  East  Indian  Company's  service, 
wrote  testifying  to  its  use  in  these  doses.  Again,  in  1831,  a  number 
of  reports  of  medical  officers  were  published  by  the  Madras  Medical 
Board,  showini,'  its  great  effects  in  hourly  doses  of  five  {jfrains,  till 
frcipiently  100  j^rains  were  given  in  a  short  period  ;  testimony  which, 
notwithstandinfj  its  weight,  was  doomed  to  be  similarly  overlooked, 
till  quite  recently,  when  it  has  been  aj^ain  brought  directly  under  the 
notice  of  (he  Indian  Governmerit,  which  is  inakint^  v(>ry  vif^orous 
rlTorts  to  introduce  the  culture  of  the  plant  into  suitable  districts  of 
India.""' 

So  that,  notwithstanding  tlie  gravity  of  the  evil,  :iiid  the 
]»rcssing  need  for  this  remedy  from  lime  to  lime  thrust  on  the 


SUBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES— EMOTIONAL.         149 

attention  of  the  Indian  authorities,  nearly  sixty  years  passed 
before  the  requisite  steps  were  taken." 

That  the  State,  which  fails  to  secure  the  health  of  men, 
even  in  its  own  employ,  should  fail  to  secure  the  health  of 
beasts,  might  perhaps  be  taken  as  self-evident ;  though  possi- 
bly some,  comparing  the  money  laid  out  on  stables  with  the 
money  laid  out  on  cottages,  might  doubt  the  corollary.  Be 
this  as  it  may,  however,  the  recent  history  of  cattle-diseases 
and  of  legislation  to  prevent  cattle-diseases,  yields  the  same 
lessons  as  are  yielded  above.  Since  1848  there  have  been 
seven  Acts  of  Parliament  bearing  the  general  titles  of  Con- 
tagious Diseases  (Animals)  Acts.  Measures  to  "stamp  out," 
as  the  phrase  goes,  this  or  that  disease,  have  been  called  for  as 
imperative.  Measures  have  been  passed,  and  then,  expecta- 
tion not  having  been  fulfilled,  amended  measures  have  been 
passed,  and  then  re-amended  measures ;  so  that  of  late  no 
session  has  gone  by  without  a  bill  to  cure  evils  which  pre- 
vious bills  tried  to  cui'e,  but  did  not.  Notwithstanding  the 
keen  interest  felt  by  the  ruling  classes  in  the  success  of  these 
measures,  they  have  succeeded  so  ill,  that  the  "foot-and- 
mouth  disease "  has  not  been  "  stamped  out,"  has  not  even 
been  kept  in  check,  but  during  the  past  year  has  spread 
alarmingly  in  various  parts  of  the  kingdom.  Continually  the 
Times  has  had  blaming  letters,  and  reports  of  local  meetings 
called  to  condemn  the  existing  laws  and  to  insist  on  better. 
From  all  quarters  there  have  come  accounts  of  ineffective 
regulations  and  incapable  ofRcials^of  policemen  who  do  the 
work  of  veterinary  surgeons — of  machinery  described  by  Mr. 
Fleming,  veterinary  surgeon  of  the  Royal  Engineers,  as 
"  clumsy,  disjointed,  and  ijiefhcient."  " 

Is  it  alleged  that  the  goodness  of  State-agency  cannot  be 
judged  by  measures  so  recent,  the  administration  of  which  is 
at  present  imperfect  ?  If  so,  let  us  look  at  that  form  of  State- 
agency  which  is  of  most  ancient  date,  and  has  had  the  longest 
time  for  perfecting  its  adjustments — let  us  take  the  Law  in 
general,  and  its  administration  in  general.  Needs  there  do 
more  than  name  these  to  remind  the  reader  of  the  amazing 
inefficiency,  confusion,  doubtfulness,  delay,  which,  proverbial 
from  early  times,  continue  still  ?  Of  penal  statutes  alone, 
which  are  assumed  to  be  known  by  evei'y  citizen,  14,408  had 


150  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

been  enacted  from  the  time  of  Edward  III.  down  to  184-1. 
As  was  said  by  Lord  Cranworth  in  the  House  of  Peers,  16th 
February,  1853,  the  judges  wei-e  supposed  to  be  acquainted 
with  all  these  laws,  but,  in  fact,  no  human  mind  could 
master  them,  and  ignorance  had  ceased  to  be  a  disgrace." 
To  this  has  to  be  added  the  accumulation  of  civil  laws, 
similarly  multitudinous,  involved,  unclassified,  and  to  this 
again  the  enormous  mass  of  "  case  law,"  filling  over  1200 
volumes  and  rapidly  increasing,  before  there  can  be  formed 
an  idea  of  the  chaos.  Consider  next,  how  there  has 

come  this  chaos ;  out  of  which  not  even  the  highest  legal 
functionaries,  much  less  the  lower  functionaries,  much  less 
the  ordinary  citizens,  can  educe  definite  conclusions.  Session 
after  session  the  confusion  has  been  worse  confounded  by 
the  passing  of  separate  Acts,  and  successive  amendments  of 
Acts,  which  are  left  unconnected  with  the  multitudinous 
kindred  Acts  and  amendments  that  lie  scattered  through  the 
accumulated  records  of  centuries.  Suppose  a  trader  should 
make,  day  by  day,  separate  memoranda  of  his  transactions 
with  A,  B,  C.  and  the  rest  of  his  debtors  and  creditors.  Sup- 
pose he  should  stick  these  on  a  file,  one  after  another  as  they 
were  made,  never  even  putting  them  in  order,  much  less 
entering  them  in  his  ledger.  Suppose  he  should  thus  go  on 
throughout  his  life,  and  that,  to  learn  the  state  of  his  account 
with  A.  B,  or  C,  his  clerks  had  to  search  through  this  enor- 
mous confused  file  of  memoranda :  being  helped  only  by 
their  memories  and  by  certain  private  note-books  which  pre- 
ceding clerks  had  made  for  their  own  guidance,  and  left 
iH'liind  them.  What  would  be  the  state  of  the  business  ? 
AVhut  chance  would  A,  B,  and  C  have  of  being  rightly  dealt 
with  ?  Yet  this,  which,  as  a  method  of  conducting  private 
business,  is  almost  too  ludicrous  for  fiction,  is  in  ])nl)lic 
business  nothing  more  than  grave  fact.  And  tlie  result  of 
the  in«'tlio<l  is  exactly  the  one  to  be  anticipated.  CounseFs 
opinions  dill'rring,  authorities  contradicting  one  another, 
judges  at  issue,  courts  in  collision.  The  conflict  extends  all 
through  the  system  from  top  to  Ijottom.  Every  day's  law- 
reports  remind  us  th.it  each  d<HM'sion  given  is  so  uncertain 
that  th'-  probability  of  ai>p('al  «l(|it'n(ls  chiclly  on  the  courage 
or  pecuniary  ability  of  iIm'  lnatcii   litigant — not  on  the  nature 


SUBJECTIVE   DIFFICULTIES— EMOTIONAL.         151 

of  the  decision :  and  if  the  appeal  is  made,  a  reversal  of  the 
decision  is  looked  for  as  by  no  means  unlikely.  And 

then,  on  conteinplating  the  ultimate  effect,  we  find  it  to  be — 
the  multiplication  of  aggressions.  Were  the  law  clear,  were 
verdicts  certain  to  be  in  conformity  witli  it,  and  did  asking 
for  its  protection  entail  no  chance  of  great  loss  or  of  ruin,  very 
many  of  the  causes  that  come  before  our  courts  would  never 
be  heard  of,  for  the  reason  that  the  wrongs  they  disclose 
would  not  be  committed  ;  nor  would  there  be  committed 
those  yet  more  numerous  wrongs  to  which  the  bad  are 
prompted  by  the  belief  that  the  persons  wronged  will  not 
dare  to  seek  redress.  Here,  where  State-agency  has  had 
centuries  upon  centuries  in  which  to  develop  its  appliances 
and  show  its  efficiency,  it  is  so  inefficient  that  citizens  dread 
employing  it,  lest  instead  of  getting  succour  in  their  distress 
they  should  bring  on  themselves  new  sufferings.  And  then 
— startling  comment  on  the  system,  if  we  could  but  see  it ! — 
there  spring  up  private  voluntary  combinations  for  doing  the 
business  which  the  State  should  do,  but  fails  to  do.  Here 
in  London  there  is  now  proposed  a  Tribunal  of  Commerce, 
for  administering  justice  among  traders,  on  the  pattern  of  that 
which  in  Paris  settles  eighteen  thousand  cases  a  year,  at  an 
average  cost  of  fifteen  shillings  each  ! 

Even  after  finding  the  State  perform  so  ill  this  vital  func- 
tion, one  might  have  expected  that  it  would  perform  well  such 
a  simple  function  as  the  keeping  of  documents.  Yet,  in  the 
custody  of  the  national  records,  there  has  been  a  carelessness 
such  as  "  no  merchant  of  ordinary  prudence  "  would  show  in 
respect  to  his  account-books.  One  portion  of  these  records 
was  for  a  long  time  kept  in  the  White  Tower,  close  to  some 
tons  of  gunpowder ;  and  another  portion  was  placed  near  a 
steam-engine  in  daily  use.  Some  records  were  deposited  in  a 
temporaiy  shed  at  the  end  of  Westminster  Hall,  and  thence, 
in  1830,  were  removed  to  other  sheds  in  tlie  King's  Mews, 
Charing  Cross,  where,  in  1836,  their  state  is  thus  described  by 
the  Repoi't  of  a  Select  Committee  : — 

"  In  these  sheds  4,136  cubic  feet  of  national  records  were  deposited 
in  the  most  neglected  condition.  Besides  the  accumnlated  dust  of 
centuries,  all,  when  these  operations  commenced  (the  invest.ipition  into 
the  state  of  the  Records),  were  found  to  be  very  damp.     Some  were  in 


152  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

a  state  of  inseparable  adhesion  to  the  stone  walls.  There  were  nu- 
merous fragments  wliich  had  only  just  escaped  entire  consumption  by 
vermin,  and  many  were  in  the  last  stage  of  putrefaction.  Decay  and 
damp  had  rendered  a  large  quantity  so  fragile  as  hardly  to  admit  of 
being  touched  ;  others,  particularly  those  in  the  form  of  rolls,  were  so 
coagulated  together  that  they  could  not  be  uncoiled.  Six  or  seven 
perfect  skeletons  of  rats  were  found  imbedded,  and  bones  of  these 
vermin  were  generally  distributed  throughout  the  mass." 

Thus  if  we  array  in  order  the  facts  which  are  daily  brought 
to  light,  but  unhappily  drop  out  of  men's  memories  as  fast  as 
others  are  added,  we  find  a  like  history  throughout.  Now  the 
complaint  is  of  the  crumbling  walls  of  the  Houses  of  Parlia- 
ment, which,  built  of  stone  chosen  by  a  commission,  never- 
theless begin  to  decay  in  parts  first  built  before  other  parts 
are  completed.  Now  the  scandal  is  about  a  new  fort  at  Sea- 
ford,  based  on  the  shingle  so  close  to  the  sea  that  a  storm 
washes  a  great  part  of  it  away.  Now  there  comes  the  account 
of  a  million  and  a  half  spent  in  building  tlie  Aldcrney  har- 
bour, wlxich,  being  found  worse  than  useless,  threatens  to  en- 
tail further  cost  for  its  destruction.  And  then  there  is  an  as- 
tounding disclosure  about  financial  irregularities  in  the  Post- 
office  and  Telegraph  departments — a  disclosure  showing  that, 
in  1870-1,  two-tliirds  of  a  million  having  been  spent  by  offi- 
cials witliout  authority,  and  the  offence  having  been  condoned 
by  Parliament,  there  again  occurs,  in  1871-2,  a  like  unwar- 
ranted expenditure  of  four-fifths  of  a  million — a  disclosure 
showing  that  while  the  Audit-de])artniont  disi)utes  a  charge 
of  sixi)ence  for  porterage  in  a  small  bill,  it  lets  millions  slip 
through  its  fingers  without  check.""  Scarcely  a  journal  can 
be  taken  up  that  has  not  some  blunder  referred  to  in  a  debate, 
or  brought  to  light  by  a  Report,  or  pointed  out  in  a  letter,  or 
commented  on  in  a  leader.  Do  I  need  an  illustration  ?  I  take 
up  tlie  Tinicft  of  this  morning  (November  i;))  and  read  that 
the  new  bankruptcy  law,  substituted  for  the  bankruj)tcy  laws 
which  failed  miserably,  is  administered  in  rooms  so  crowded 
and  noisy  that  due  car(^  and  thought  on  tlie  ]iart  of  odicials  is 
scarcely  jxissibh;,  and,  further,  that  as  one  part  of  the  court 
sits  in  tlie  City  and  anofln-r  i)art  in  Liiicoln's  Inn,  solicitors 
liavc  ot'ti'ii  to  111'  ill  bdtli  |il;ic(s  at  tlic  same  time.  1  >o  I  need 
more  ilhistrations  ?     They  eonie   in  abundanco  between   the 


SUBJECTIVE   DIFFICULTIES— EMOTIONAL.         153 

day  on  which  the  foregoing  sentence  was  written  and  the  day 
(November  20)  on  which  I  revise  it.  Within  this  short  time 
mismanagement  has  been  sliown  in  a  treatment  of  the  police 
that  has  created  a  mutiny  among  them  ;  in  a  treatment  of 
government  copying-clerks  that  causes  them  publicly  to  com- 
plain of  broken  promises ;  in  a  treatment  of  postmen  that 
calls  from  them  disrespectful  behaviour  towards  their  supe- 
riors :  all  at  the  same  time  that  there  is  going  on  the  conti'o- 
versy  about  Park-rules,  which  have  been  so  issued  as  to  evade 
constituti(mal  i^rinciples,  and  so  administered  as  to  bring  the 
law  into  contempt.  Yet  as  fast  as  there  come  proofs  of 

mal-administration  there  come  demands  that  administration 
shall  be  extended.  Here,  in  the  very  sajiie  coj^y  of  the  Times, 
are  two  authorities,  Mr.  Reed  and  Sir  W.  Fairbairn,  speaking 
at  different  meetings,  both  condemning  the  enormous  bun- 
gling and  consequent  loss  of  life  that  goes  on  under  the  exist- 
ing Govei'nment-supervision  of  vessels,  and  both  insisting  on 
"  legislation  "  and  "  jjroper  inspection  "  as  the  remedies."  Just 
as,  in  societies  made  restive  by  despotism,  the  proposed  remedy 
for  the  evils  and  dangers  brought  about  is  always  more  despot- 
ism ;  just  as,  along  with  the  failing  power  of  a  decaying  Papacy, 
there  goes,  as  the  only  fit  cure,  a  re-assertion  of  Papal  infalli- 
bility, with  emphatic  ohhligato  from  a  Council ;  so,  to  set  right 
the  misdoings  of  State-agency,  the  proposal  always  is  more 
State-agency.  When,  after  long  continuance  of  coal-mine  in- 
spection, coal-mine  explosions  keep  recurring,  the  cry  is  for 
more  coal-mine  inspection.  When  railway  accidents  multiply, 
notwithstanding  the  oversight  of  officials  appointed  by  law 
to  see  that  railways  are  safe,  the  unhesitating  demand  is  for 
more  such  officials.  Though,  as  Lord  Salisbury  lately  re- 
marked of  governing  bodies  deputed  by  the  State,  "they  begin 
by  being  enthusiastic  and  extravagant,  and  they  are  very  apt 
to  end  in  being  wooden  "—though,  through  the  press  and  by 
private  conversation,  men  are  perpetually  reminded  that 
when  it  has  ceased  to  wield  the  new  broom,  each  deputy  gov- 
erning power  tends  to  become  either  a  king-stork  that  does 
mischief,  or  a  king-log  that  does  nothing  ;  yet  more  deputy 
governing  powers  are  asked  for  with  unwavering  faith. 
While  the  unwisdom  of  officialism  is  daily  illustrated,  the 
ai'gument  for  each  proposed  new  department  sets  out  with  the 


154  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

postulate  that  officials  will  act  -wisely.  After  endless  com- 
ments on  the  confusion  and  apathy  and  delay  of  Government 
offices,  other  Government  offices  ai'e  advocated.  After  cease- 
less ridicule  of  red-tape,  the  petition  is  for  more  red-tape. 
Daily  we  castigate  the  political  idol  with  a  hundred  pens,  and 
daily  pray  to  it  with  a  thousand  tongues. 

The  emotion  which  thus  destroys  the  balance  of  judgment, 
lies  deep  in  the  natures  of  men  as  they  have  been  and  still  are. 
This  root  out  of  which  there  gi'ow  hopes  that  are  no  sooner 
blighted  than  kindred  hopes  grow  up  in  their  places,  is  a  root 
reaching  down  to  the  lowest  stages  in  civilization.  The  con- 
quering chief,  feared,  marvelled  at,  for  his  strength  or  sagac- 
ity— distinguished  from  others  by  a  quality  thought  of  as 
supernatural  (when  the  antithesis  of  this  with  natural  be- 
comes thinkable),  ever  excites  a  disproportionate  faith  and  ex- 
pectation. Having  done  or  seen  things  beyond  the  power  or 
insight  of  inferiors,  there  is  no  knowing  what  other  things  he 
may  not  do  or  see.  After  death  his  deeds  become  magnified 
by  tradition  ;  and  his  successor,  inheriting  his  authority,  exe- 
cuting his  commands,  and  keeping  up  secret  communication 
with  him,  acquires  either  thus,  or  by  his  own  superiority,  or 
by  both,  a  like  credit  for  powers  that  transcend  the  ordinary 
human  powers.  So  there  accumulates  an  awe  of  the  ruler, 
with  its  correlative  faith.  On  tracing  the  genealogy  of  the 
governing  agent,  thus  begimiing  as  god.  and  descendant  of 
the  gods,  and  having  titles  and  a  worshi])  in  common  with 
the  gods,  we  see  there  clings  to  it,  through  all  its  successive 
metamorphoses,  more  or  less  of  this  same  ascribed  character, 
exciting  this  same  sentiment.  "Divinely  descended"  be- 
comes presently  "divinely  a])pointed,"  "the  Lord's  anointed," 
"ruler  by  divine  riglit,"  "king  by  the  grace  of  God,"  &c. 
And  then  as  fast  as  declining  nioiinrcliical  jiower  l)iMiigs  with 
it  decreasing  belief  in  the  su])eriiatui'aliiess  of  the  monarch 
(which,  liowever,  long  lingers  in  faint  forms,  as  in.stance  the 
supi)osed  cure  of  king's  evil),  the  growing  powers  of  the  bodies 
tliat  jussume  liis  functions  ])ring  to  them  a  share  of  the  still- 
surviving  sentiment.  The  "divinity  that  doth  hedge  a  king" 
becomes,  in  considerable  measure,  th(>  divinity  that  doth 
hedge  a  parliament.     The  superstitious  reverence  once  felt 


SUBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES— EMOTIONAL.         155 

towards  the  one,  is  transferred,  in  a  modified  form,  to  the 
other ;  taking  with  it  a  tacit  belief  in  an  alnlity  to  achieve 
anji  end  that  may  be  wislied,  and  a  tacit  belief  in  an  authority 
to  which  no  limits  may  be  set. 

This  sentiment,  inherited  and  cultivated  in  men  from 
childhood  upwards,  sways  their  convictions  in  spite  of  them. 
It  generates  an  irrational  confidence  in  all  the  paraphernalia 
and  appliances  and  forms  of  State-action.  In  the  very  aspect 
of  a  law-deed,  ^^Titten  in  an  archaic  hand  on  dingy  parch- 
ment, there  is  something  which  raises  a  conception  of  validity 
not  raised  by  ordinary  wi'iting  on  i:)aper.  Around  a  Govern- 
ment-stamp there  is  a  certain  glamour  wliicli  makes  us  feel  as 
though  the  piece  of  paper  bearing  it  was  more  than  a  mere 
mass  of  dry  pulp  with  some  indented  marks.  To  any  legal 
form  of  words  there  seems  to  attach  an  authority  gi'eater  than 
that  which  would  be  felt  w^ere  the  language  free  from  legal 
involutions  and  legal  technicalities.  And  so  is  it  with  all  the 
symbols  of  authority,  from  royal  pageants  downwards.  That 
the  judge's  wig  gives  to  his  decisions  a  weight  and  sacreduess 
they  would  not  have  were  he  bare-headed,  is  a  fact  familiar  to 
every  one.  And  when  we  descend  to  the  lowest  agents  of  the 
executive  organization,  we  find  the  same  thing.  A  man  in 
blue  coat  and  white-metal  buttons,  which  carry  with  them  the 
thought  of  State-authority,  is  habitually  regarded  by  citizens 
as  having  a  trustworthiness  beyond  that  of  a  man  wlio  wears 
no  such  uniform ;  and  this  confidence  survives  all  disproofs. 
Obviously,  then,  if  men's  judgments  are  thus  ridiculously 
swayed,  notwithstanding  better  knowledge,  by  the  mere  sym- 
bols of  State-power,  still  more  must  they  be  so  swayed  by 
State-power  itself,  as  exercised  in  ways  that  leave  greater  scope 
for  the  imagination.  If  awe  and  faith  are  irresistibly  called 
out  towards  things  which  perception  and  reason  tell  us  posi- 
tively should  not  call  them  out,  still  more  will  awe  and  faith 
be  called  out  towards  those  State-actions  and  influences  on 
which  perception  and  reason  can  less  easily  be  brought  to  bear. 
If  the  beliefs  prompted  by  this  feeling  of  reverence  survive 
even  where  they  are  flatly  contradicted  by  common  sense,  still 
more  will  they  survive  where  common  sense  cannot  flatly 
contradict  them. 

How  deeply  rooted  is  this  sentiment  excited  in  men  by  em- 


156  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

bodied  supremacy,  will  be  seen  on  noting  how  it  sways  in 
common  all  orders  of  politicians,  from  the  old-world  Tory  to 
the  Red  Rei)ublican.  Contrasted  as  the  extreme  parties  are  in 
the  types  of  Government  they  approve,  and  in  the  theories 
they  hold  respecting  the  source  of  governmental  authority, 
they  are  alike  in  their  unquestioning  belief  in  governmental 
authority,  and  in  showing  almost  unlimited  faith  in  the 
ability  of  a  Government  to  achieve  any  desired  end.  Though 
the  form  of  the  agency  towards  which  the  sentiment  of  loyalty 
is  directed,  is  much  changed,  yet  there  is  little  change  in  the 
sentiment  itself,  or  in  the  general  conceptions  it  creates.  The 
notion  of  the  di\ane  right  of  a  person,  has  given  place  to  the 
notion  of  the  divine  right  of  a  representative  assembly.  While 
it  is  held  to  be  a  self-evident  falsity  that  the  single  will  of  a 
despot  can  justly  override  the  wills  of  a  people,  it  is  held  to  be 
a  self-evident  truth  that  the  wills  of  one-half  of  a  people  2)^iis 
some  small  fraction,  may  with  perfect  justice  override  the 
wills  of  the  other  half  minus  this  small  fraction — may  over- 
ride them  in  respect  of  any  matter  whatever.  Unlimited 
authority  of  a  majority  has  been  substituted  for  unlimited 
authority  of  an  individual.  So  unquestioning  is  the  belief  in 
this  unlimited  authority  of  a  majority,  that  even  the  tacit  sug- 
gestion of  a  doubt  pi'oduccs  astonishment.  True,  if  of  one 
who  holds  that  power  deputed  by  the  people  is  subject  to  no 
restrictions,  you  ask  whether,  if  the  majority  decided  that  no 
person  should  be  allowed  to  live  beyond  sixty,  the  decision 
might  be  legitimately  executed,  he  would  possibly  hesitate. 
Or  if  you  asked  him  whether  the  majority,  being  Catholic, 
might  rightly  require  of  the  Protestant  minority  that  they 
should  either  embrace  Catholicism  or  leave  the  country,  he 
would,  influenced  by  the  ideas  of  religious  liberty  in  which  he 
has  been  brought  up,  i)i"()bably  say  no.  But  though  liis  an- 
swers to  suiulry  such  questions  disclose  the  fact  that  State- 
authority,  even  wlien  uttering  the  national  will,  is  not  be- 
lieved by  liim  to  be  absolutely  .supreme  ;  liis  latent  conviction 
that  there  are  limits  to  it,  lies  so  remote  in  the  obscure  back- 
gi'onnd  of  liis  consciousness  as  to  be  ]iractically  non-existent. 
In  all  he  says  about  wbat  a  Lcgislatui'c  .sbould  do,  oi'  forbid, 
or  require,  he  tacitly  a.s.sunies  that  any  regulation  m.iy  be  en- 
acted, and    when   (■n;i(t"(i    iiiusi    Ix'  obeyed.      .\ii(l    tlieii,  along 


SUBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES— EMOTIONAL.         157 

with  this  authority  not  to  be  gainsaid,  he  believes  in  a  capacity 
not  to  be  doubted.  Whatever  the  governing  body  decides  to 
do,  can  be  done,  is  the  postulate  which  lies  hidden  in  the 
schemes  of  tlie  most  revolutionary  reformers.  Analyze  the 
programme  of  the  Communalists,  observe  what  is  hoped  for 
by  the  adherents  of  the  Social  and  Democratic  Republic,  or 
study  the  ideas  of  legislative  action  which  our  own  Trades- 
Unionists  entertain,  and  you  find  the  implied  belief  to  be  that 
a  Government,  organized  after  an  approved  pattern,  will  be 
able  to  remedy  all  the  evils  complained  of  and  to  secure  each 
proposed  benefit. 

Thus,  the  emotion  excited  by  embodied  power  is  one  which 
sways,  and  indeed  mainly  determines,  the  beliefs,  not  only  of 
those  classed  as  the  most  subordinate,  but  even  of  those  classed 
as  the  most  insubordinate.  It  has  a  deeper  origin  than  any 
political  creed  ;  and  it  more  or  less  distorts  the  conceptions  of 
all  parties  respecting  governmental  action. 

This  sentiment  of  loyalty,  making  it  almost  impossible  to 
study  the  natures  and  actions  of  governing  agencies  with  per- 
fect calmness,  greatly  hinders  sociological  science,  and  must 
long  continue  to  hinder  it.  For  the  sentiment  is  all-essential. 
Throughout  the  past,  societies  have  been  mainly  held  together 
by  it.  It  is  still  an  indispensable  aid  to  social  cohesion  and 
tlie  maintenance  of  order.  And  it  will  be  long  before 
social  discipline  has  so  far  modified  human  character,  that 
reverence  for  law,  as  rooted  in  the  moral  order  of  things, 
will  serve  in  place  of  reverence  for  the  power  which  en- 
forces law. 

Accounts  of  existing  uncivilized  races,  as  well  as  histories 
of  the  civilized  races,  show  us  d  posteriori^  what  we  might 
infer  with  certainty  a  priori,  that  in  proportion  as  the  mem- 
bers of  a  society  are  aggressive  in  their  natures,  they  can  be 
held  together  only  by  a  proportionately-strong  feeling  of  un- 
reasoning reverence  for  a  ruler.  Some  of  the  lowest  types  of 
men,  who  show  but  little  of  this  feeling,  show  scai'cely  any 
social  coliesion,  and  make  no  progress — instance  the  Austra- 
lians. Where  appreciable  social  development  has  taken  place, 
we  find  subordination  to  chiefs;  and,  as  the  society  enlarges, 
to  a  king.     If  we  need  an  illustration  that  where  there  is  great 


158  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY, 

savageness,  social  union  can  be  maintained  only  bj'"  great 
loyalty,  we  have  it  among'  those  ferocious  cannibals,  the  Fi- 
jians.  Here,  where  the  barbai'ism  is  so  extreme  that  a  late 
king  registered  by  a  row  of  many  hundred  stones  the  number 
of  human  victims  he  had  devoured,  the  loyalty  is  so  extreme 
that  a  man  stands  unbound  to  be  knocked  on  the  head  if  the 
king  wills  it :  himself  saying  that  the  king's  will  must  be 
done.  And  if,  with  this  case  in  mind,  we  glance  back  over 
the  past,  and  note  the  fealty  that  went  along  with  brutality  in 
feudal  ages;  or  if,  at  the  present  time,  we  observe  how  the 
least  advanced  European  nations  show  a  superstitious  awe  of 
the  ruler  which  in  the  more  advanced  has  become  conven- 
tional respect ;  we  shall  perceive  that  decrease  of  the  feeling 
goes  on,  and  can  normally  go  on,  only  as  fast  as  the  fitness  of 
men  for  social  co-operation  increases.  Manifestly,  throughout 
all  past  time,  assemblages  of  men  in  whom  the  aggressive 
selfishness  of  the  predatory  nature  existed  witliout  this  feeling 
which  induces  obedience  to  a  controlling  power,  dissolved 
and  disappeared :  leaving  the  world  to  be  peopled  by  men 
who  luul  the  required  emotional  balance.  And  it  is  mani- 
fest that  even  in  a  civilized  society,  if  the  sentiment  of  sub- 
ordination becomes  enfeebled  witliout  self-control  gaining 
in  strength  proportionately,  there  arises  a  danger  of  social 
dissolution :  a  truth  of  which  France  supplies  an  illustra- 
tion. 

Hence,  as  above  said,  the  conceptions  of  sociological  phe- 
nomena, or,  at  least,  of  those  all-important  ones  relating  to 
governmental  structures  and  actions,  must  now,  and  for  a  long 
time  to  come,  be  rendered  more  (m*  less  untrue  by  this  perturlj- 
ing  emotion.  Here,  in  the  concrete,  may  be  recognized  tho 
truth  before  stated  in  the  abstract,  that  the  individual  citizen, 
imbedded  in  tlie  social  organism  as  one  of  its  units,  mouldcnl 
l)y  its  iiifhicnces,  and  aiding  reci])rocally  to  re-mould  it,  fiu'- 
thering  its  life  while  enaljled  by  it  to  live,  cannot  so  emanci- 
pate liimself  as  to  see  things  around  him  in  tlieir  real  relatiojis. 
Unless  Dh'  iiKiss  (if  citizens  have  sentiments  and  lu'licfs  in 
Konietliing  like  liui'inony  with  the  social  organization  in  which 
tlicy  arc  incorjxirulcd,  tliis  organizadon  cannot  continue.  The 
sentiments  proper  to  each  typ(^  of  society  inevifal)ly  sway  the 
sociological  conclusions  of  its  unit.s.     And  ;iiiioiig  oilier  senti- 


SUBJECTIVE  DIFFICULTIES— EMOTIONAL.         ]59 

ments,  this  awe  of  embodied  power  takes  a  large  share  in  doing 
this. 

How  large  a  share  it  takes,  we  shall  see  on  contemplating 
the  astonishingly-pervei'ted  estimates  of  rulers  it  has  produced, 
and  the  resulting  perversions  of  history.  Recall  the  titles  of 
adoration  given  to  emperors  and  kings  ;  the  ascription  to  them 
of  capacities,  beauties,  powers,  virtues,  transcending  those  of 
mankind  in  general ;  the  fulsome  flatteries  used  when  com- 
mending them  to  God  in  prayers  professing  to  utter  the  truth. 
Now,  side  by  side  with  these,  put  records  of  their  deeds  through- 
out all  past  times  in  all  nations ;  notice  how  these  records  are 
blackened  with  crimes  of  all  orders ;  and  then  dwell  awhile 
on  the  contrast.  Is  it  not  manifest  that  the  conceptions  of 
State-actions  that  went  along  with  these  profoundly-untrue 
conceptions  of  rulers,  must  also  have  been  profoundly  untrue  ? 
Take,  as  a  single  example.  King  James,  who,  as  described  by 
Mr.  Bisset  in  agreement  with  other  historians,  was  "in  every 
relation  of  life  in  which  he  is  viewed  .  .  .  equally  an  object 
of  aversion  or  contempt ; "  but  to  whom,  nevertheless,  the 
English  translation  of  the  Bible  is  dedicated  in  sentences  be- 
ginning— "  Great  and  manifold  were  the  blessings,  most  dread 
sovereign,  which  Almighty  God,  the  Father  of  all  mercies, 
bestowed  upon  us  the  people  of  England,  when  first  He  sent 
Your  Majesty's  Royal  Person  to  rule  and  reign  over  us,"  &c., 
&c.  Think  of  such  a  dedication  of  such  a  book  to  such  a  man  ; 
and  then  ask  if,  along  with  a  sentiment  thus  expressing  itself, 
there  could  go  anything  like  balanced  judgments  of  political 
transactions. 

Does  there  need  an  illustration  of  the  extent  to  which  bal- 
anced judgments  of  political  transactions  are  made  impossible 
by  this  sentiment  during  times  when  it  is  strong  ?  We  have 
one  in  the  warped  conceptions  formed  respecting  Charles  I. 
and  Cromwell,  and  respecting  the  changes  with  which  their 
names  are  identified.  Now  that  many  generations  have  gone 
by,  and  it  begins  to  be  seen  that  Charles  was  not  woi'thy  to  be 
prayed  for  as  a  martyr,  while  Cromwell  deserved  treatment 
quite  unlike  that  of  exhuming  his  body  and  insulting  it ;  it 
begins  to  be  seen  also,  how  utterly  wrong  have  been  the  inter- 
pretations of  the  events  these  two  rulers  took  pai-t  in,  and  how 
12 


160  THE  STUDY   OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

entirely  men's  sentiments  of  loyalty  have  incapacitated  them 
for  understanding  those  events  under  their  sociological  aspects. 
Naming  this  as  an  instance  of  the  more  special  perverting 
eflfects  of  this  sentiment,  we  have  here  chielly  to  note  its  more 
general  perverting  effects.  From  the  beginning  it  has  tended 
ever  to  keep  in  the  foreground  of  consciousness,  the  governing 
agent  as  causing  social  phenomena ;  and  so  has  kept  in  the 
background  of  consciousness  all  other  causes  of  social  phe- 
nomena— or  rather,  the  one  has  so  completely  occupied  con- 
sciousness as  to  exclude  the  other.  If  we  remember  that  his- 
tory has  been  full  of  the  doings  of  kings,  but  that  only  in 
quite  I'ecent  times  have  the  phenomena  of  industrial  organi- 
zation, conspicuous  as  they  are,  attracted  any  attention, — if 
we  remember  that  while  all  eyes  and  all  thoughts  have  been 
turned  to  the  actions  of  rulers,  no  eyes  and  no  thoughts  have, 
until  modern  days,  been  turned  to  those  vital  processes  of 
spontaneous  co-operation  by  which  national  life,  and  gro\\i;h, 
and  progress,  have  been  carried  on ;  we  shall  not  fail  to  see 
how  profound  have  been  the  resulting  errors  in  men's  conclu- 
sions about  social  affairs.  And  seeing  this,  we  shall  infer  that 
the  emotion  excited  in  men  by  embodied  political  power  nmst 
now,  and  for  a  long  time  to  come,  be  a  great  obstacle  to  the 
formation  of  true  sociological  conceptions  :  tending,  as  it  must 
ever  do,  to  exaggerate  the  importance  of  tlie  political  factor  in 
comparison  with  other  factors. 

Under  the  title  of  "Subjective  Difficulties — Emotional,"  I 
have  here  entered  ujjon  an  extensive  field,  the  greater  part  of 
wliicli  roTuaiiis  to  be  ex])loi'ed.  Tlie  effects  of  inii)atience,  the 
effects  of  that  all-gkn-ifying  admiration  felt  for  military  suc- 
cess, the  effects  of  that  sentiment  which  makes  men  submit  to 
authority  by  keeping  up  a  superstitious  awe  of  the  agent  exer- 
cising it,  are  ])ut  a  few  among  the  eH'ccts  wliicli  tlie  emotions 
produce  on  .sociological  beliefs.  Vai'ious  other  elfects  have 
DOW  to  be  described  and  illustrated.  I  i)ropose  to  deal  with 
therii  ill  chapters  on — the  Educational  Bias,  the  Bias  of  Patri- 
otism, the  Class-Bias,  the  Political  Bias,  and  the  Theological 
Bias. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE   EDUCATIONAL   BIAS. 

It  would  clear  up  our  ideas  about  many  things,  if  we  dis- 
tinctly recognized  the  truth  that  we  have  two  religions. 
Primitive  humanity  has  but  one.  The  humanity  of  the  re- 
mote future  will  have  but  one.  The  two  are  opposed ;  and  we 
who  live  midway  in  the  course  of  civilization  have  to  believe 
in  both. 

These  two  religions  are  adapted  to  two  conflicting  sets  of 
social  requirements.  The  one  set  is  supreme  at  the  beginning ; 
the  other  set  will  be  supreme  at  the  end ;  and  a  compromise 
has  to  be  maintained  between  them  during  the  progress  from 
beginning  to  end.  On  the  one  hand,  there  must  be  social  self- 
preservation  in  face  of  external  enemies.  On  the  other  hand, 
there  must  be  co-operation  among  fellow-citizens,  which  can 
exist  only  in  jwoportion  as  fair  dealing  of  man  with  man  cre- 
ates mutual  trust.  Unless  the  one  necessity  is  met,  the  society 
disappears  by  extinction,  or  by  absorption  into  some  conquer- 
ing society.  Unless  the  other  necessity  is  met,  there  cannot 
be  that  division  of  labour,  exchange  of  services,  consequent 
industrial  progi'ess  and  increase  of  numbers,  by  which  a  society 
is  made  strong  enough  to  survive.  In  adjustment  to  these  two 
conflicting  requirements,  there  grow  up  two  conflicting  codes 
of  duty ;  which  severally  acquire  supernatural  sanctions.  And 
thus  we  get  the  two  coexisting  religions — the  religion  of  enmity 
and  the  religion  of  amity. 

Of  course,  I  do  not  mean  that  these  are  both  called  religfons. 
Here  I  am  not  speaking  of  names ;  I  am  speaking  simply  of 
things.  Nowadays,  men  do  not  pay  the  same  verbal  homage 
to  the  code  which  enmity  dictates  that  they  do  to  the  code 
which  amity  dictates — the  last  occupies  the  place  of  honour. 

IGl 


162  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

But  the  real  homage  is  paid  in  larg-e  measure,  if  not  in  the 
larger  measure,  to  the  code  dictated  by  enmity.  The  religion 
of  enmity  nearly  all  men  actually  believe.  The  religion  of 
amity  most  of  tliem  merely  believe  they  believe.  In  some  dis- 
cussion, say,  about  international  affairs,  remind  them  of  cer- 
tain precepts  contained  in  the  creed  they  profess,  and  the  most 
you  get  is  a  tepid  assent.  Now  let  the  conversation  turn  on 
tlie  "tunding"'  at  Winchester,  or  on  the  treatment  of  Indian 
mutineers,  or  on  the  Jamaica  business ;  and  you  find  that 
while  the  precepts  tepidly  assented  to  were  but  nominally  be- 
lieved, quite  opposite  precepts  are  believed  undoubtingly  and 
defended  with  fervour. 

Curiously  enough,  to  maintain  these  antagonist  religions, 
which  in  our  transitional  state  are  both  requisite,  we  have 
adopted  from  two  different  races  two  different  cults.  From 
the  books  of  the  Jewish  New  Testament  we  take  our  religion 
of  amity.  Greek  and  Latin  epics  and  histories  serve  as  gos- 
pels for  our  religion  of  enmity.  In  the  education  of  our 
youth  we  devote  a  small  portion  of  time  to  the  one,  and  a 
large  portion  of  time  to  the  other.  And,  as  though  to  make 
the  compromise  etl'ectual,  these  two  cults  arc  carric^d  on  in  the 
same  places  by  the  same  teachers.  At  our  Public  Schools,  as 
also  at  many  other  schools,  the  same  men  ai'e  priests  of  both 
religions.  The  nobility  of  self-sacrifice,  set  forth  in  Scripture- 
lessons  and  dwelt  on  in  sermons,  is  made  C())is])icuous  every 
seventh  day ;  wliile  during  the  other  six  days,  the  nobility  of 
sacrificing  others  is  exhibited  in  glowing  words.  The  sacred 
duty  of  blood-revenge,  which,  as  existing  savages  show  us, 
constitutes  the  religion  of  enmity  in  its  primitive  form — 
whicli,  as  sliown  us  in  ancient  literature,  is  enforced  by  divine 
sanction,  or  ratlier  l>y  divine  coniniaiid,  as  well  as  by  tlie  ()])in- 
ion  of  men — is  the  duty  which,  during  the  six  days,  is  deeply 
stamped  on  natures  quite  ready  to  receive  it ;  and  then  some- 
tliing  is  done  towards  ()blit<>i'a(iiig  Mie  stani]),  when,  on  the 
sevcntli  day,  vengeance  is  interdicted. 

A  liriori,  it  miglit  be  tliought  impossible  that  men  should 
continue  through  life  Ik dding  two  doctrines  wlii<  li  are  mutu- 
ally destructive.  But  tlu^ir  ability  to  c()in]»r()niise  between 
conllieting  beliefs  i.s  very  remarkable — remarkable,  at  least,  if 
we  supi)(>se  lliem  to  put  timir  conllieting  beliefs  side  by  side; 


THE  EDUCATIONAL  BIAS.  163 

not  so  remarkable  if  we  recognize  the  fact  that  they  do  not 
put  them  side  by  side.  A  late  distinguished  physicist,  whose 
science  and  religion  seemed  to  his  friends  irreconcilable,  re- 
tained both  for  the  reason  that  he  deliberately  refused  to  com- 
pare the  propositions  of  the  one  with  those  of  the  other.  To 
speak  in  metaphor — when  he  entered  his  oratory  he  shut  the 
door  of  his  laboratory  ;  and  when  he  entered  his  laboratory 
he  shut  the  door  of  his  oratory.  It  is  because  they  habitually 
do  something  similar,  that  men  live  so  contentedly  under  this 
logically-indefensible  compromise  between  their  two  creeds. 
As  the  intelligent  child,  propounding  to  his  seniors  puzzling 
theological  questions,  and  meeting  many  rebuffs,  eventually 
ceases  to  think  about  difficulties  of  which  he  can  get  no  solu- 
tions ;  so,  a  little  later,  the  contradictions  between  the  things 
taught  to  him  in  school  and  in  cluirch,  at  first  startling  and 
inexplicable,  become  by-and-by  familiar,  and  no  longer  attract 
his  attention.  Thus  while  growing  up  he  acquires,  in  com- 
mon with  all  around  him,  the  habit  of  using  first  one  and 
then  the  other  of  his  creeds  as  the  occasion  demands  ;  and  at 
maturity  the  habit  has  become  completely  established.  Now 
he  enlarges  on  the  need  for  maintaining  the  national  honour, 
and  thinks  it  mean  to  arbitrate  about  an  aggression  instead  of 
avenging  it  by  war ;  and  now,  calling  his  servants  together, 
he  reads  a  prayer  in  which  he  asks  God  that  our  trespasses 
may  be  forgiven  as  we  forgive  trespasses  against  us.  That 
which  he  prays  for  as  a  virtue  on  Sunday,  he  scorns  as  a  vice 
on  Monday. 

The  religion  of  amity  and  the  religion  of  enmity,  with  the 
emotions  they  respectively  enlist,  are  important  factors  in  so- 
ciological conch;sions ;  and  rational  sociological  conclusions 
can  be  produced  only  when  both  sets  of  factors  come  into 
play.  We  have  to  look  at  each  cluster  of  social  facts  as  a 
phase  in  a  continuous  metamorphosis.  We  have  to  look  at 
the  conflicting  religious  beliefs  and  feelings  included  in  this 
cluster  of  facts  as  elements  in  this  phase.  We  have  to  do 
more.  We  have  to  consider  as  transitional,  also,  the  conflict- 
ing religious  beliefs  and  feelings  in  which  we  are  brought  up, 
and  which  distort  our  views  not  only  of  passing  phenomena 
in  our  own  society,  but  also  of  phenomena  in  other  societies 
and  in  other  times ;  and  the  aberrations  they  cause  in  our  in- 


164  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

ferences  have  to  be  sought  for  and  rectified.  Of  these  two 
relig-ions  taught  us,  we  must  constantly  remember  that  during 
civilization  the  religion  of  enmity  is  slowly  losing  strength, 
while  the  religion  of  amity  is  slowly  gaining  strength.  We 
must  bear  in  mind  that  at  each  stage  a  certain  ratio  between 
them  has  to  be  maintained.  We  must  infer  that  the  existing 
ratio  is  only  a  temporary  one  ;  and  that  the  resulting  bias  to 
this  or  that  conviction  resjiecting  social  afPairs  is  temporary. 
And  if  we  are  to  reach  those  unbiassed  convictions  which  form 
parts  of  the  Social  Science,  we  can  do  it  only  by  allowing  for 
this  temporary  bias. 

To  see  how  greatly  our  opposite  religions  respectively  per- 
vert sociological  beliefs,  and  how  needful  it  is  that  the  opposite 
perversions  they  cause  should  be  corrected,  we  must  here  con- 
template the  extremes  to  which  men  are  carried,  now  by  the 
one  and  now  by  the  other. 

As  from  antagonist  physical  forces,  as  from  antagonist 
emotions  in  each  man,  so  from  the  antagonist  social  tenden- 
cies men's  emotions  create,  there  always  results,  not  a  medium 
state,  but  a  rhythm  between  opposite  states.  The  one  iorce  or 
tendency  is  not  continuously'  counterbalanced  by  the  other 
force  or  tendency  ;  but  now  the  one  greatly  predominates,  and 
presently  by  reaction  there  comes  a  i')redominance  of  the 
other.  That  which  we  are  shown  by  variations  in  the  prices 
of  stocks,  slinres,  or  commodities,  occurring  daily,  weekly, 
and  in  longer  intervals — that  which  we  see  in  the  alternations 
of  manias  and  panics,  caused  by  irrational  hopes  and  absvird 
fears — that  which  diagi'ams  of  these  variations  express  by  the 
ascents  and  descents  of  a  line,  now  to  a  gi-cat  height  and  now 
to  an  equivalent  depth,  we  discover  in  all  social  phenomena, 
moral  and  religious  included.  It  is  exhibited  on  a  large  scale 
and  on  a  small  scale — by  rhythms  extending  over  centuries 
and  by  rliythnis  of  short  periods.  And  we  see  it  not  only  in 
waves  of  conlliftiiig  feelings  and  o])inions  that  pass  tlu'ough 
societies  as  wholes,  hut  also  in  the  ojiposite  excesses  gone  to 
by  individuals  and  sects  in  the  same  society  at  the  same  time. 
Tlici-e  is  nowhere  a  bahinccd  judgment  and  a  balanced  action, 
hut  always  a  cancelling  of  one  another  hy  contrary  errors : 
"  men  pair  oil  in  insane  parties,"  as  Emerson  puts  it.     Some- 


TEE  EDUCATIONAL   BIAS,  105 

thing  like  rationality  is  finally  obtained  as  a  product  of  mu- 
tually-destructive irrationalities.  As  for  example,  in  the 
treatment  of  our  criminals,  thei'e  alternate,  or  co-exist,  an  un- 
reasoning' severity  and  an  unreasoning  lenity.  Now  we  pun- 
ish in  a  spirit  of  vengeance  ;  now  we  pamper  with  a  maudlin 
symi^athy.  At  no  time  is  there  a  due  adjustment  of  penalty 
to  transgression  such  as  the  course  of  nature  shows  us — an  in- 
flicting of  neither  more  nor  less  evil  than  the  reaction  which 
the  action  causes. 

In  the  conflict  between  our  two  religions  we  see  this  gen- 
eral law  on  a  great  scale.  The  religion  of  unqualified  altru- 
ism arose  to  correct  by  an  opposite  excess  the  religion  of  un- 
qualified egoism.  Against  the  doctrine  of  entire  selfishness 
it  set  the  doctrine  of  entire  self-sacrifice.  In  place  of  the 
aboriginal  creed  not  requiring  you  to  love  your  fellow-man  at 
all,  but  insisting  only  that  certain  of  your  fellow-men  you 
shall  hate  even  to  the  death,  there  came  a  creed  directing  that 
you  shall  in  no  case  do  anything  prompted  by  hate  of  your 
fellow-man,  but  shall  love  him  as  yourself.  Nineteen  cen- 
turies have  since  wrought  some  compromise  between  these 
opposite  creeds.  It  has  never  been  rational,  however,  but  only 
empirical — mainly,  indeed,  unconscious  compromise.  There 
is  not  yet  a  distinct  recognition  of  what  truth  each  extreme 
stands  for,  and  a  perception  that  the  two  truths  must  be  co- 
ordinated ;  but  there  is  little  more  than  a  partial  rectifying 
of  excesses  one  way  by  excesses  the  other  way.  By  these  per- 
sons purely-egoistic  lives  are  led.  By  those,  altruism  is  car- 
ried to  the  extent  of  bringing  on  ill  health  and  premature 
death.  Even  on  comparing  the  acts  of  the  same  individual, 
we  find,  not  an  habitual  balance  between  the  two  tendencies, 
but  now  an  effort  to  inflict  gTeat  evil  on  some  foreign  ag- 
gressor or  some  malefactor  at  home,  and  now  a  dispropor- 
tioned  sacrifice  on  behalf  of  one  often  quite  unworthy  of  it. 
That  altruism  is  right,  but  that  egoism  is  also  right,  and  that 
there  requires  a  continual  compromise  between  the  two,  is  a 
conclusion  which  but  few  consciously  formulate  and  still 
fewer  avow. 

Yet  the  untenability  of  the  doctrine  of  self-sacrifice  in  its 
extreme  form  is  conspicuous  enough  ;  and  is  tacitly  admitted 
by  all  in  their  ordinary  inferences  and  daily  actions.     Work, 


166  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

enterprise,  invention,  improvement,  as  they  have  gone  on  from 
the  beginning  and  are  going  on  now,  arise  out  of  the  principle 
that  among  citizens  severally  having  unsatisfied  wants,  each 
cares  more  to  satisfy  his  own  wants  than  to  satisfy  the  wants  of 
others.  The  fact  that  industrial  activities  grow  from  this  root, 
being  recognized,  the  inevitable  implication  is  that  unquali- 
fied altruism  would  dissolve  all  existing  social  organizations  : 
leaving  the  onus  of  proof  that  absolutely-alien  social  organi- 
zations would  act.  That  they  would  not  act  becomes  clear  on 
suj)posing  the  opposite  principle  in  force.  Were  A  to  be  care- 
less of  himself,  and  to  care  only  for  the  welfare  of  B,  C,  and 
D,  while  each  of  these,  paying  no  attention  to  his  own  needs, 
busied  himself  in  supplying  the  needs  of  the  others ;  this 
roundabout  process,  besides  being  troublesome,  would  very  ill 
meet  the  requu'ements  of  each,  unless  each  could  have  his 
neighbour's  consciousness.  After  observing  this,  we  must  in- 
fer that  a  certain  predominance  of  egoism  over  altruism  is 
beneficial;  and  that. in  fact  no  other  arrangement  would  an- 
swer. Do  but  ask  what  would  happen  if,  of  A,  B,  C,  D,  &c., 
each  declined  to  have  a  gratification  in  his  anxiety  that  some 
one  else  should  luive  it,  and  that  the  someone  else  similarly 
persisted  in  refusing  it  out  of  sympatliy  with  his  fellows — do 
but  contemplate  the  resulting  confusion  and  cross-purposes 
and  loss  of  gratification  to  all,  and  you  will  see  that  pure  al- 
truism would  bring  things  to  a  deadlock  just  as  much  as  pure 
egoism.  In  truth  nobody  ever  dreams  of  acting  out  the  altru- 
istic theory  in  all  the  relations  of  life.  The  Quaker  who  pro- 
poses to  accept  literally,  and  to  practi.se,  the  precepts  of  Chris- 
tianity, carries  on  liis  business  on  egoistic  principles  just  as 
much  as  his  neiglibours.  Tliough,  nominally,  he  liolds  that 
he  is  to  take  no  thouglit  for  tlie  morrow,  liis  tliouglit  for  the 
morrow  Ix'trays  as  distinct  an  egoism  as  tbat  of  men  in  gen- 
eral ;  and  lie  is  conscious  that  to  take  as  iniidi  tlioughl  for  the 
niornjws  of  otliers,  would  be  ruinous  to  him  and  eventually 
mischievous  to  all. 

While,  ho\V((ver,  luj  one  is  entirely  altruistic —while  no 
one  really  believes  an  entirely  altruistic  life  to  be  ))racticable, 
there  continues  the  tacit  assertion  lliat  coiHliict  diKj/if  U>  he 
entirely  altruistic.  It  does  not  seciu  lo  ])e  .suspected  tiiat  i)urc 
altruism  is  actually  wrong.     Brought  up,  as  each  is,  in  the 


THE  EDUCATIONAL  BIAS.  107 

nominal  acceptance  of  a  creed  which  wholly  subordinates 
egoism  to  altruism,  and  gives  sundry  precepts  that  are  abso- 
lutely altruistic,  each  citizen,  while  ignoring  these  in  his  busi- 
ness, and  tacitly  denying  thcni  in  various  opinions  he  utters, 
daily  gives  to  them  lip-liomage,  and  supposes  that  acceptance 
of  them  is  required  of  him  though  he  finds  it  impossible.  Feel- 
ing that  he  cannot  call  them  in  question  without  calling  in 
question  his  religion  as  a  whole,  ho  pretends  to  others  and  to 
himself  that  he  believes  them — believes  things  which  in  his 
innermost  consciousness  he  knows  he  does  not  believe.  He 
professes  to  think  that  entire  self-sacrifice  must  be  right, 
though  dimly  conscious  that  it  would  be  fatal. 

If  he  had  the  courage  to  think  out  clearly  what  he  vaguely 
discerns,  he  would  discover  that  self-sacrifice  passing  a  certain 
limit  entails  evil  on  all — evil  on  those  for  whom  sacrifice  is 
made  as  well  as  on  those  who  make  it.  While  a  continual 
giving-up  of  pleasures  and  continual  submission  to  pains  is 
physically  injm-ious,  so  that  its  fhial  outcome  is  debility,  dis- 
ease, and  abridgment  of  life;  the  continual  acceptance  of 
benefits  at  the  expense  of  a  fellow-being  is  morally  injurious. 
Just  as  much  as  unselfishness  is  cultivated  by  the  one,  selfish- 
ness is  cultivated  by  the  other.  If  to  surrender  a  gratification 
to  another  is  noble,  i^eadiness  to  accept  the  gratification  so  sur- 
rendered is  ignoble  ;  and  if  repetition  of  the  one  kind  of  act  is 
elevating,  repetition  of  the  other  kind  of  act  is  degrading.  So 
that  though  up  to  a  certain  point  altruistic  action  blesses  giver 
and  receiver,  beyond  that  point  it  curses  giver  and  receiver — 
physically  deteriorates  the  one  and  morally  deteriorates  the 
other.  Everyone  can  remember  cases  where  greediness  for 
pleasures,  reluctance  to  take  trouble,  and  utter  disregard  of 
those  around,  have  been  perpetually  increased  by  unmeasured 
and  ever-ready  kindnesses ;  while  the  unwise  benefactor  has 
shown  by  languid  movements  and  pale  face  the  debility  con- 
sequent on  disregard  of  self  :  the  outcome  of  the  policy  being 
destruction  of  the  worthy  in  making  worse  the  unworthy. 

The  absurdity  of  unqualified  altruism  becomes,  indeed, 
glaring  on  remembering  that  it  can  be  extensively  practised 
only  if  in  the  same  society  there  coexist  one  moiety  altruistic 
and  one  moiety  egoistic.  Only  those  who  are  intensely  selfish 
will  allow  their  fellows  habitually  to  behave  to  them  with 


168  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

extreme  unselfishness.  If  all  are  duly  regardful  of  others, 
there  are  none  to  accept  the  sacrifices  whicli  others  are  ready 
to  make.  If  a  higli  degree  of  sympathy  cliaracterizes  all,  no 
one  can  be  so  unsympathetic  as  to  let  another  receive  positive 
or  negative  injmy  that  he  may  benefit.  So  that  pure  altru- 
ism in  a  society  implies  a  nature  -which  makes  pure  altruism 
impossible,  from  the  absence  of  those  towards  whom  it  may 
be  exercised ! 

Equally  untenable  does  the  doctrine  show  itself  when 
looked  at  from  another  point  of  view.  If  life  and  its  gratifi- 
cations are  valuable  in  another,  they  are  equally  valuable 
in  self.  There  is  no  total  increase  of  happiness  if  only  as 
much  is  gained  by  one  as  is  lost  by  another ;  and  if,  as  con- 
tinually happens,  the  gain  is  not  equal  to  the  loss — if  the  re- 
cipient, already  inferior,  is  further  demoralized  by  habitual 
acceptance  of  sacrifices,  and  so  made  less  capable  of  happiness 
(which  he  inevitably  is),  the  total  amount  of  happiness  is  di- 
minished :  benefactor  and  beneficiary  are  both  losers. 

The  maintenance  of  tlie  individuality  is  thus  demonstrably 
a  duty.  The  assertion  of  personal  claims  is  essential ;  both  as 
a  means  to  self-happiness,  which  is  a  unit  in  the  general  liap- 
piness,  and  as  a  means  to  furthering  the  general  happiness  al- 
truistically. Resistance  to  aggi'ession  is  not  simply  justifiable 
but  imperative.  Non-re.sistance  is  at  variance  with  altruism 
and  egoism  alike.  The  extreme  Christian  theory,  which  no 
one  acts  upon,  which  no  one  really  believes,  but  which  most 
tacitly  profess  and  a  few  avowedly  profess,  is  as  logically  in- 
defensible as  it  is  impracticable. 

The  religion  of  amity,  then,  taken  by  itself,  is  incomplete 
— it  needs  supplementing.  Tlie  doctrines  it  inculcates  and 
the  sentiments  it  fosters,  arising  by  reactions  against  opposite 
doctrines  and  sentiments,  run  into  extremes  the  other  way. 

Let  us  now  turn  to  these  opposite  doctrines  and  sentiments, 
inculcated  and  fostered  by  the  religion  of  enmity,  and  note 
the  excesses  to  which  they  run. 

Wortliy  of  higlicst  a(huiration  is  the  "Ta.smanian  devil," 
wliich,  ligliting  to  the  hist  gas]),  snarls  with  its  dying  breath. 
Adiiiirablr,  too,  though  less  admirable,  is  our  own  bull-dog— a 
creature  said  sometimes  to  retain  its  hold  even  when  a  limb  is 


THE  EDUCATIONAL  BIAS.  100 

cut  off.  To  be  admired  also  for  their  "  pluck,"  perhaps  nearly 
in  as  great  a  degree,  are  some  of  the  carnivora,  as  the  lion  and 
the  tiger ;  since  when  driven  to  bay  they  fight  against  gi'eat 
odds.  Nor  should  we  forget  the  game-cock,  supplying  as  it 
does  a  word  of  eulogy  to  the  mob  of  roughs  who  witness  the 
hano-inar  of  a  murderer,  and  who  half  condone  his  crime  if  he 
"dies  game."  Below  these  animals  come  mankind;  some  of 
whom,  indeed,  as  the  American  Indians,  bear  tortures  without 
groaning.  And  then,  considerably  lower,  must  be  placed  the 
civilized  man ;  who,  fighting  up  to  a  certain  point,  and  bear- 
ing considerable  injury,  ordinarily  yields  when  further  fight- 
ing is  useless. 

Is  the  reader  startled  by  this  classification  ?  Why  should 
he  be  ?  It  is  but  a  literal  application  of  that  standard  of  worth 
tacitly  assumed  by  most,  and  by  some  deliberately  avowed. 
Obviously  it  is  the  standard  of  worth  believed  in  by  M.  Gam- 
betta,  who,  after  bloodshed  carried  to  the  extent  of  prostrating 
France,  lately  reproached  the  French  Assembly  by  saying— 
"  You  preferred  peace  to  honour ;  you  gave  five  milliards  and 
two  provinces."  And  there  are  not  a  few  among  ourselves 
who  so  thoroughly  agree  in  M.  Gambetta's  feeling,  that  this 
utterance  of  his  has  gone  far  to  redeem  him  in  their  estima- 
tion. If  the  reader  needs  encouragement  to  side  with  such, 
plenty  more  may  be  found  for  him.  The  Staffordshire  collier, 
enjoying  the  fighting  of  dogs  when  the  fighting  of  men  is  not 
to  be  witnessed,  would  doubtless  take  the  same  view.  In  the 
slums  of  Whitechapel  and  St.  Giles's,  among  leaders  of  "  the 
fancy,"  it  is  an  unhesitating  belief  that  pluck  and  endurance 
are  the  highest  of  attributes ;  and  probably  most  readers  of 
BelVs  Life  in  London  would  concur  in  this  belief.  More- 
over, if  he  wants  further  sympathy  to  support  him,  he  may 
find  entire  races  ready  to  give  it ;  especially  that  noble  race  of 
cannibals,  the  Fijians,  among  whom  bravery  is  so  highly 
honoured  that,  on  their  return  from  battle,  the  triumphant 
wamors  are  met  by  the  women,  who  place  themselves  at 
their  unrestricted  disposal.  So  that  whoever  inclines  to  adopt 
this  measure  of  superiority  will  find  many  to  side  with  him — 
that  is,  if  he  likes  his  company. 

Seriously,  is  it  not  amazing  that  civilized  men  should  espe- 
cially pride  themselves  on  a  quality  in  which  they  are  ex- 


170  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

ceeded  by  inferior  varieties  of  their  own  race,  and  still  more 
exceeded  by  inferior  animals  ?  Instead  of  regarding  a  man 
as  manly  in  proportion  as  he  possesses  moral  attributes  dis- 
tinctively human,  we  regard  him  as  manly  in  proportion  as 
he  shows  an  attribute  possessed  in  greater  degrees  by  beings 
from  whom  we  derive  our  words  of  contempt.  It  was  lately 
remarked  by  Mr.  Greg  that  we  take  our  point  of  honour  from 
the  prize-ring;  but  we  do  Avorse, — we  take  our  point  of  hononr 
from  beasts.  Nay,  we  take  it  from  a  beast  inferior  to  those 
we  are  familiar  with  ;  for  the  "  Tasmanian  devil,"  in  structiire 
and  intelligence,  stands  on  a  much  lower  level  of  brutality 
than  our  lions  and  bull-dogs. 

That  resistance  to  aggression  is  to  be  ajiplauded,  and  that 
the  courage  implied  by  resistance  is  to  be  valued  and  admired, 
may  be  fully  admitted  while  denying  that  courage  is  to  be 
regarded  as  the  supreme  virtue.  A  large  endowment  of  it  is 
essential  to  a  complete  nature  ;  but  so  are  large  endowments  of 
other  things  which  we  do  not  therefore  make  our  measures  of 
worth.  A  good  body,  well  grown,  well  proportioned,  and  of 
such  quality  in  its  tissues  as  to  be  endiu'ing.  should  bring,  as  it 
does  bring,  its  share  of  admiration.  Admirable,  too,  in  their 
ways,  are  good  stomach  and  lungs,  as  well  as  a  vigorous  vas- 
cular system  ;  for  without  these  the  power  of  self-preservation 
and  the  power  of  preserving  others  will  fall  short.  To  be  a 
fine  animal  is,  indeed,  essential  to  many  kinds  of  achieve- 
ment; and  courage,  which  is  a  general  index  of  an  organiza- 
tion capable  of  satisfying  the  requirements,  is  rightly  valued 
for  what  it  implies.  Courage  is,  in  fact,  a  feeling  that  grows 
by  accuniulated  experiences  of  successful  dealings  with  difR- 
culties  and  dangers ;  and  these  successful  dealings  are  proofs 
of  competence  in  strength,  agility,  quickness,  endurance,  &c. 
No  one  will  deny  that  perpetual  faihn*es,  resulting  from  in- 
capacity of  one  kind  or  other,  produce  discouragement;  or 
that  repeated  triumphs,  which  are  ])r()<)fs  of  cajJMcity,  so  raise 
the  courage  that  tliere  comes  a  readiness  to  (Micounter  greater 
difficulties.  Tlir  f-.wi  Ili;i(  a  dose  <if  brandy,  by  stimulating 
the  circulation.  ])r<)duc<'s  "  Dutcli  courage,"  as  it  is  called, 
joined  witli  tlic  fact  well  known  to  medical  men,  that  heart- 
(iisctuse  brings  on  liniidity,  are  of  tlu'niselvcs  cnougli  to  .sliow 
that  bravery  is  the  natural  correlative  of  ability  to  cope  with 


THE  EDUCATIONAL  BIAS.  171 

circumstances  of  peril.  But  while  we  are  thus  taught  that,  in 
admiring-  courage,  we  are  admiring  xjhysical  superiorities  and 
those  superiorities  of  mental  faculty  which  give  fitness  for 
dealing  with  emergencies,  we  are  also  taught  that  unless  we 
rank  as  supreme  the  bodily  powers  and  those  powers  which 
directly  conduce  to  self-preservation,  we  cannot  say  that  cour- 
age is  the  highest  attribute,  and  that  the  degree  of  it  should 
be  our  standard  of  honour. 

That  an  over-estimate  of  courage  is  appropriate  to  our 
phase  of  civilization  may  be  very  true.  It  is  beyond  doubt 
that  during  the  struggle  for  existence  among  nations,  it  is 
needful  that  men  should  admire  extremely  the  quality  with- 
out which  there  can  be  no  success  in  the  struggle.  While, 
among  neighbouring  nations,  we  have  one  in  which  a^  the 
males  are  trained  for  war — while  the  sentiment  of  this  nation 
is  such  that  students  slash  one  another's  faces  in  duels  about 
trifles,  and  are  admired  for  their  scars,  especially  by  women — 
while  the  military  ascendancy  it  tolerates  is  such  that,  for  ill- 
usage  by  soldiers,  ordinary  citizens  have  no  adequate  redress — 
while  the  government  is  such  that  though  the  monarch  as 
head  of  the  Church  condemns  duelling  as  irreligious,  and  as 
head  of  the  Law  forbids  it  as  a  crime,  yet  as  head  of  the  Army 
he  insists  on  it  to  the  extent  of  expelling  officers  who  will 
not  fight  duels— while,  I  say,  we  have  a  neighbouring  nation 
thus  characterized,  something  of  a  kindred  character  in  appli- 
ances, sentiments,  and  beliefs,  has  to  be  maintained  among 
ourselves.  When  we  find  another  neighbouring  nation  be- 
lieving that  no  motive  is  so  high  as  the  love  of  glory,  and  no 
glory  so  great  as  that  gained  by  successful  w^ar— when  we 
perceive  the  military  spii-it  so  pervading  this  nation  that  it 
loves  to  clothe  its  childi'en  in  gitasi-military  costume — when 
we  find  one  of  its  historians  writing  that  the  French  army  is 
the  great  civilizer,  and  one  of  its  generals  lately  saying  that 
the  army  is  the  soul  of  France — when  we  see  that  the  vital 
energies  of  this  nation  run  mainly  to  teeth  and  claws,  and 
that  it  quickly  grows  new  sets  of  teeth  and  claws  in  place  of 
those  pulled  out ;  it  is  needful  that  we,  too,  should  keep  our 
teeth  and  claws  in  order,  and  should  maintain  ideas  and  feel- 
ings adapted  to  the  eff'ectual  use  of  them.  There  is  no  gain- 
saying the  truth  that  while  the  predatory  instincts  continue 


172  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

prompting'  nations  to  rob  one  another,  destructive  agencies 
must  be  met  by  antagonist  destructive  agencies ;  and  that  this 
may  be  done,  honour  must  be  given  to  the  men  who  act  as 
destructive  agents,  and  there  must  be  an  exaggerated  estimate 
of  the  attributes  which  make  them  efficient. 

It  may  be  needful,  therefoi'e,  that  our  boys  should  be  accus- 
tomed to  harsh  treatment,  giving  and  receiving  brutal  punish- 
ments without  too  nice  a  consideration  of  their  justice.  It 
may  be  that  as  the  Spartans  and  as  the  North- American  In- 
dians, in  preparation  for  warfare,  subjected  their  young  men 
to  tortures,  so  should  we ;  and  thus,  perhaps,  the  "  education 
of  a  gentleman  "  may  properly  include  giving  and  receiving 
"  hacking  "  of  the  shins  at  foot-ball :  boot-toes  being  purposely 
Tnad§  heavy  that  they  may  inflict  greater  damage.  So,  too,  it 
may  be  well  that  boys  should  all  in  turn  be  subject  to  the 
tender  mercies  of  elder  boys  ;  with  whose  thrashings  and  kick- 
ings  the  masters  decline  to  interfere,  even  though  they  are 
sometimes  carried  to  the  extent  of  maiming  for  life.  Possibly, 
also,  it  is  fit  that  each  boy  should  be  disciplined  in  submission 
to  any  tyrant  who  may  be  set  over  him,  by  finding  that  appeal 
brings  additional  evils.  That  each  should  be  made  callous, 
morally  as  well  as  physically,  by  the  bearing  of  frequent 
wrongs,  and  should  be  made  yet  more  callous  when,  coming- 
into  power,  he  inflicts  punislimonfs  as  whim  or  spite  prompts, 
may  also  be  desirable.  Nor,  ])('rlui])s,  can  we  wholly  regret 
that  confusion  of  moral  ideas  which  results  when  breaches  of 
conventional  rules  bring  penalties  as  severe  as  are  brought  by 
acts  morally  WTong.  For  war  does  not  consist  with  keen  scn- 
sitivoiioss,  physical  or  moral.  Reluctance  to  inflict  injury, 
and  reliu'tunce  to  risk  injury,  would  equally  render  it  impos- 
sible. Scruples  of  conscience  respecting  the  rectitude  of  their 
cause  would  paralyze  officers  and  soldiers.  So  tliat  a  certain 
brutiilizalion  lias  to  ho  maiiifaiiuHl  during  om*  i)assiiig  ])liase 
of  civilization.  It  may  be,  indeed,  that  "the  Pulilic  School 
spirit,"  wliich,  as  truly  said,  is  carried  into  our  i)ul)lic  life,  is 
not  the  most  desirable  for  a  free  country.  It  may  be  that 
early  subjection  to  d<'S|)ofisin  aiul  early  exercise  of  uncon- 
trolled power,  nro  not  the  best  possible  ])i"c])ai'ati()ns  for  legis- 
lators. It  may  be  tliat  those  who,  on  the  magisli-alc's  bench, 
have  to  maintain  right  against  might,  could  be  better  trained 


THE  EDUCATIONAL  BIAS.  173 

than  by  submission  to  violence  and  subsequent  exercise  of 
violence.  And  it  may  be  that  some  other  discipline  than  that 
of  the  stick,  would  be  desirable  for  men  who  oliicer  the  press 
and  guide  public  opinion  on  questions  of  equity.  But,  doubt- 
less, while  national  antagonisms  continue  strong  and  national 
defence  a  necessity,  there  is  a  fitness  in  this  semi-military  dis- 
cipline, with  pains  and  bruises  to  uphold  it.  And  a  duly- 
adapted  code  of  honour  has  the  like  defence. 

Here,  however,  if  we  are  to  free  ourselves  from  transitory 
sentiments  and  ideas,  so  as  to  be  capable  of  framing  scientific 
conceptions,  we  must  ask  what  warrant  there  is  for  this  exal- 
tation of  the  destructive  activities  and  of  the  qualities  implied 
by  them  ?  We  must  ask  how  it  is  possible  for  men  rightly  to 
pride  themselves  on  attributes  possessed  in  higher  degrees  by 
creatures  so  much  lower  ?  We  must  consider  whether,  in  the 
absence  of  a  religious  justification,  there  is  any  ethical  justifi- 
cation for  the  idea  that  the  most  noble  traits  are  such  as  can- 
not be  displayed  without  the  infliction  of  pain  and  death. 
When  we  do  this,  we  are  obliged  to  admit  that  the  religion  of 
enmity  in  its  unqualified  form,  is  as  indefensible  as  the  re- 
ligion of  amity  in  its  unqualified  form.  Each  proves  itself  to 
be  one  of  those  insane  extremes  out  of  which  there  comes  a 
sane  mean  by  union  w^th  its  opposite.  The  two  religions 
stand  respectively  for  the  claims  of  self  and  the  claims  of 
others.  The  first  religion  holds  it  glorious  to  resist  aggres- 
sion, and,  w^hile  risking  death  in  doing  this,  to  inflict  death 
on  enemies.  The  second  religion  teaches  that  the  glory  is  in 
not  resisting  aggression,  and  in  yielding  to  enemies  while  not 
asserting  the  claims  of  self.  A  civilized  humanity  will  render 
either  glory  just  as  impossible  of  achievement  as  its  opposite. 
A  diminishing  egoism  and  an  increasing  altruism,  must  make 
each  of  these  diverse  kinds  of  honour  unattainable.  For  such 
an  advance  implies  a  cessation  of  those  aggressions  which 
make  possible  the  nobility  of  resistance ;  while  it  implies  a 
refusal  to  accept  those  sacrifices  without  which  there  cannot 
be  the  nobility  of  self-sacrifice.  The  two  extremes  must  can- 
cel ;  leaving  a  moral  code  and  a  standard  of  honour  free 
from  irrational  excesses.  Along  with  a  latent  self-assertion, 
there  will  go  a  readiness  to  yield  to  others,  kept  in  check  by 
the  refusal  of  others  to  accept  more  than  their  due. 


174  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

And  now,  having  noted  the  perversions  of  thought  and 
sentiment  fostered  by  the  religion  of  amity  and  the  religion  of 
enmity,  under  which  we  are  educated  in  so  chaotic  a  fashion, 
let  us  go  on  to  note  the  ways  in  which  these  atfect  sociological 
conceptions.  Certain  important  truths  apt  to  be  shut  out  from 
the  minds  of  the  few  who  are  unduly  swayed  by  the  religion 
of  amity,  may  first  be  set  down. 

One  of  the  facts  dilficult  to  reconcile  with  current  theories 
of  the  Universe,  is  that  high  organizations  throughout  the 
animal  kingdom  habitually  serve  to  aid  destruction  or  to  aid 
escape  from  destruction.     If  we  hold  to  the  ancient  view,  we 
must  say  that  high  organization  has  been  deliberately  devised 
for  such  purposes.     If  we  accept  the  modern  view,  we  must 
say  that  high  organization  has  been  evolved  by  the  exercise 
of  destructive  activities  during  immeasurable  periods  of  the 
past.     Here  we  choose  the  latter  alternative.     To  the  never- 
ceasing  efforts  to  catch  and  eat,  and  the  never-ceasing  en- 
deavours to  avoid  being  caught  and  eaten,  is  to  be  ascribed 
the  development  of  the  various  senses  and  the  various  motor 
organs  directed  by  them.     The  bird  of  prey  with  the  keenest 
vision,  has.  other  tilings  equal,  survived  when  members  of  its 
species  that  did  not  see  so  far,  died  from  want  of  food ;  and  by 
such  survivals,  keenness  of  vision  has  been  made  greater  in 
course  of  generations.     The  fleetest  members  of  a  herbivorous 
herd,  escaping  when  the  slower  fell  victims  to  a  carnivore, 
left  posterity ;  among  which,  again,  those  with  the  most  per- 
fectly-adapted  limbs    survived  :    the    carnivores    themselves 
being  at  the  same  time  similarly  disciplined  and  tlicir  s]ieed  in- 
creased.    So,  too,  with  intelligence.     Sagacity  that  detected  a 
danger  which  stupidity  did  not  perceive, lived  and  propagated  ; 
and  the  cunning  which  hit  upon  a  new  deception,  and  so  so- 
cured  prey  not  otherwise  to  be  caught,  left  postei-ity  where  a 
smaller  rtidowiticiit  of  cunning  fniled.     This  nnitual  perfect- 
ing of  ])ursu('r  and  pursued,  acting  upon  tlicir  entii-e  organiza- 
tioii.s,  lias  been  going  on  throughoutall  time;  and  liuman  beings 
]iav<'  been  subject  to  it  just  as  much  as  other  beings.     Warfare 
among  men,  like  warfare  mnong  animals,  has  had  a  birge  share 
in  raising  their  »)rganizatiniis  to  a  higher  .stage.     The  following 
are  so)ne  of  tlie  various  ways  in  whicli  it  has  worked. 


THE  EDUCATIONAL  BIAS.  175 

In  the  first  place,  it  has  had  the  etfect  of  continually  ex- 
tirpating races  which,  for  some  reason  or  other,  were  least 
fitted  to  cope  with  the  conditions  of  existence  they  were  sub- 
ject to.  The  killint^-otf  of  relatively-feeble  tribes,  or  tribes 
relatively  wanting  in  endurance,  or  courage,  or  sagacity,  or 
power  of  co-operation,  must  have  tended  ever  to  maintain, 
and  occasionally  to  increase,  the  amounts  of  life-preserving 
powers  possessed  by  men. 

Beyond  this  average  advance  caused  by  destruction  of  the 
least-developed  races  and  the  least-developed  individuals, 
there  has  been  an  average  advance  caused  by  inheritance  of 
those  further  developments  due  to  functional  activity.  Re- 
member the  skill  of  the  Indian  in  following  a  trail,  and  re- 
member that  under  kindred  stimuli  many  of  liis  perceptions 
and  feelings  and  bodily  powers  have  been  habitually  taxed  to 
the  uttermost,  and  it  becomes  clear  that  the  struggle  for  ex- 
istence between  neighbouring  tribes  has  had  an  important 
effect  in  cultivating  faculties  of  various  kinds.  Just  as,  to 
take  an  illustration  from  among  ourselves,  the  skill  of  the 
police  cultivates  cunning  among  burglars,  which,  again,  lead- 
ing to  further  precautions  generates  further  devices  to  evade 
them ;  so,  by  the  unceasing  antagonisms  between  human  so- 
cieties, small  and  large,  there  has  been  a  mutual  culture  of  an 
adapted  intelligence,  a  mutual  culture  of  certain  traits  of  char- 
acter not  to  be  undervalued,  and  a  mutual  culture  of  bodily 
powers. 

A  large  effect,  too,  has  been  produced  upon  the  develop- 
ment of  the  arts.  In  responding  to  the  imperative  demaaads 
of  war,  industry  made  important  advances  and  gained  much 
of  its  skill.  Indeed,  it  may  be  questioned  whether,  in  the 
absence  of  that  exercise  of  manipulative  faculty  which  the 
making  of  weapons  originally  gave,  there  would  ever  have 
been  produced  the  tools  required  for  developed  industry.  If 
we  go  back  to  the  Stone-Age,  we  see  that  implements  of  the 
chase  and  implements  of  war  are  those  showing  most  labour 
and  dexterity.  If  we  take  still-existing  human  races  which 
were  without  metals  when  we  found  them,  we  see  in  their  skil- 
fully-wrought stone  clubs,  as  well  as  in  their  large  war- 
canoes,  that  the  needs  of  defence  and  attack  were  the  chief 
stinmli  to  the  cultivation  of  arts  afterwards  available  for 
13 


176  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

productive  jDurposes.  Passing  over  intermediate  stages,  we 
may  note  in  comparatively-recent  stages  the  same  rela- 
tion. Observe  a  coat  of  mail,  or  one  of  the  more  highly- 
finished  suits  of  armour — compare  it  with  articles  of  iron 
and  steel  of  the  same  date  ;  and  there  is  evidence  that  these 
desires  to  kill  enemies  and  escape  being  killed,  more  ex- 
treme than  any  other,  have  had  great  elfects  on  those 
arts  of  working  in  metal  to  which  most  other  arts  owe 
theii*  progress.  The  like  relation  is  shown  us  in  the  uses 
made  of  gunpowder.  At  first  a  destructive  agent,  it  has  be- 
come an  agent  of  immense  service  in  quarrying,  mining, 
railway-making,  &c. 

A  no  less  important  benefit  bequeathed  by  war,  has  been 
the  formation  of  large  societies.  By  force  alone  were  small 
nomadic  hordes  welded  into  large  tribes  ;  by  force  alone  were 
large  tribes  welded  into  small  nations ;  by  force  alone  have 
small  nations  been  Avelded  into  lai'ge  nations.  While  the 
fighting  of  societies  usually  maintains  sepai-ateness,  or  by 
conquest  produces  only  temporary  unions,  it  produces,  from 
time  to  time,  permanent  unions ;  and  as  fast  as  there  are 
formed  permanent  imions  of  small  into  largo,  and  then  of 
large  into  still  larger,  industrial  progress  is  furthered  in  three 
ways.  Hostilities,  instead  of  being  perpetual,  are  broken  by 
intervals  of  peace.  When  they  occur,  hostilities  do  not  so 
profoundly  derange  the  industrial  .ictivities.  And  there  arises 
the  possibility  of  carrying  out  the  division  of  lalxmr  much 
more  effectually.  War,  in  short,  in  the  slow  coiu'se  of  things, 
brings  about  a  social  aggregation  which  furthers  that  indus- 
trial state  at  variance  with  war;  and  yet  nothing  but  Var 
could  bring  about  this  social  aggregation.  Tliose  truths, 

that  without  war  large  aggregates  of  men  cannot  be  formed, 
and  that  without  large  aggregates  of  men  there  cannot  be  a 
developed  industrial  state,  are  illustrated  in  all  places  ami 
times.  Among  existing  uncivilized  and  scnii civilized  races, 
we  everywhere  find  that  unio:i  of  small  s(KMeti(>s  by  a  c(m- 
quering  soc^iety  is  a  sfeji  in  ('ivilization.  The  records  of  ])eo- 
ples  now  extinct  show  us  tliis  willi  ((lual  clearness.  On  look- 
ing back  into  our  own  hisfory,  and  into  i]\o  histories  of 
nciglil)ouring  nations,  we  similarly  see  tliat  only  by  coercion 
wo'c,  the  SMialk'r  feudal   governments  so  subordinated  us  to 


THE  EDUCATIONAL  BIAS.  177 

secure  internal  peace.  And  even  lately,  the  long-desired  con- 
solidation of  Germany,  if  not  directly  effected  by  "  blood  and 
iron,"  as  Bismarck  said  it  must  be,  lias  been  indirectly  effected 
by  them.  The  furtherance  of  industrial  development  by 

aggregation  is  no  less  manifest.  If  we  compare  a  small  so- 
ciety with  a  large  one,  we  get  clear  proof  that  those  processes 
of  co-operation  by  which  social  life  is  made  possible,  assume 
high  forms  only  when  the  numbers  of  the  co-oi^erating  citi- 
zens are  great.  Ask  of  what  use  a  cloth-factory,  supposing 
they  could  have  one,  would  be  to  the  members  of  a  small 
tribe,  and  it  becomes  manifest  that,  producing  as  it  would  in 
a  single  day  a  year's  supply  of  cloth,  the  vast  cost  of  making 
it  and  keeping  it  in  order  could  never  be  compensated  by  the 
advantage  gained.  Ask  what  would  happen  were  a  shop  like 
Shoolbred's,  supplying  all  textile  products,  set  up  in  a  village, 
and  you  see  that  the  absence  of  a  sufficiently-extensive  dis- 
tributing function  would  negative  its  continuance.  Ask  what 
sphere  a  bank  would  have  had  in  the  Old-English  period,  when 
nearly  all  people  grew  their  own  food  and  spun  their  own 
wool,  and  it  is  at  once  seen  that  the  various  appliances  for 
facilitating  exchange  can  grow  up  only  when  a  community 
becomes  so  large  that  the  amount  of  exchange  to  be  facilitated 
is  great.  Hence,  unquestionably,  that  integration  of  societies 
effected  by  war,  has  been  a  needful  preliminary  to  industrial 
development,  and  consequently  to  developments  of  other  kinds 
— Science,  the  Fine  Arts,  &c. 

Industrial  habits  too,  and  habits  of  subordination  to  social 
I'equirements,  are  indirectly  brought  about  by  the  same  cause. 
The  truth  that  the  power  of  working  continuously,  wanting 
in  the  aboriginal  man,  could  be  established  only  by  that  per- 
sistent coercion  to  which  conquered  and  enslaved  tribes  are 
subject,  has  become  trite.  An  allied  truth  is,  that  only  by  a 
discipline  of  submission,  first  to  an  owner,  then  to  a  personal 
governor,  presently  to  government  less  personal,  then  to  the 
embodied  law  proceeding  from  government,  could  there  even- 
tually be  reached  submission  to  that  code  of  moral  law  by 
which  the  civilized  man  is  more  and  more  restrained  in  his 
dealings  with  his  fellows. 

Such  being  some  of  the  important  truths  usually  ignored 
by  men  too  exclusively  influenced  by  the  religion  of  amity, 


178  THE  STUDY   OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

let  us  now  glance  at  the  no  less  important  truths  to  which  men 
are  blinded  by  the  religion  of  enmity. 

Though,  during  barbarism  and  the  earlier  stages  of  civiliza- 
tion, war  has  the  effect  of  exterminating  the  weaker  societies, 
and  of  weeding  out  the  weaker  members  of  the  stronger  so- 
cieties, and  thus  in  both  ways  furthering  the  development  of 
those  valuable  powers,  bodily  and  mental,  which  war  brings 
into  play ;  yet  during  the  later  stages  of  civilization,  the  sec- 
ond of  these  actions  is  i*evei'sed.  So  long  as  all  adult  males 
have  to  bear  arms,  the  avei-age  result  is  that  those  of  most 
strength  and  quickness  survive,  while  the  feebler  and  slower 
are  slain  ;  but  when  the  industrial  developnaent  has  become 
such  that  only  some  of  the  adult  males  are  drafted  into  the 
army,  the  tendency  is  to  pick  out  and  expose  to  slavighter  the 
best-grown  and  healthiest:  leaving  behind  the  physically-in- 
ferior to  propagate  the  race.  The  fact  that  among  ourselves, 
though  the  number  of  soldiers  raised  is  not  relatively  large, 
many  recruits  are  rejected  by  the  examining  surgeons,  shows 
that  the  process  inevitably  works  towards  deterioi'ation. 
Where,  as  in  France,  conscriptions  have  gone  on  taking  away 
the  finest  men,  generation  after  generation,  the  needful  lower- 
ing of  the  standard  jiroves  how  disastrous  is  the  elFect  on 
those  animal  qualities  of  a  race  which  form  a  necessary  basis 
for  all  higher  qualities.  If  the  depiction  is  indirect  also — if 
there  is  such  an  overdraw  on  the  energies  of  the  industrial 
population  that  a  large  share  of  heavy  labour  is  thrown  on 
the  women,  whose  systems  are  taxed  simultaneously  by  hard 
work  and  child-bearing,  a  further  cause  of  jjliysical  degen- 
eracy comes  into  play  :  France  again  supplj-ing  an  example. 
War,  therefore,  after  a  certain  stage  of  ])rogrcss,  instead  of 
furthering  Ijodily  develojiment  and  the  devcloiJUient  of  cer- 
tain mental  jjowers,  becomes  a  cause  of  i-etrogression. 

In  like  manner,  though  war,  by  bringing  about  social  con- 
solidations, indirectly  favours  industrial  ju'ogress  and  all  its 
civilizing  (•(jns«'t|U(Mices,  yet  the  direct  ellect  of  war  on  indus- 
trial progress  is  i-e])ressive.  It  is  ro])ressivc  as  necessitiiting 
tli(!  abstraction  of  men  and  matx-riais  that  would  otherwise  go 
to  industrial  growth;  it  is  repressive  as  deranging  tlieconi- 
plex  inter-<li|)(ii(lencics  among  the  many  productive  .ind  dis- 


THE  EDUCATIONAL  BIAS.  179 

tributive  agencies ;  it  is  repressive  as  drafting  o£P  much  ad- 
ministrative and  constructive  ability,  which  woukl  else  have 
gone  to  improve  the  industrial  arts  and  the  industrial  organi- 
zation. And  if  we  contrast  the  absolutely- military  Spartans 
with  the  partially-military  Athenians,  in  their  respective  atti- 
tudes towards  culture  of  every  kind,  or  call  to  mind  the  con- 
tempt shown  for  the  pvu-suit  of  knowledge  in  purely-military 
times  like  those  of  feudalism  ;  we  cannot  fail  to  see  that  per- 
sistent war  is  at  variance  not  only  with  industrial  develop- 
ment, but  also  with  the  higher  intellectual  developments  that 
aid  industry  and  are  aided  by  it. 

So,  too,  with  the  effects  wrought  on  the  moral  nature. 
While  war,  by  the  discipline  it  gives  soldiers,  directly  culti- 
vates the  habit  of  subordination,  and  does  the  like  indirectly 
by  establishing  strong  and  permanent  governments ;  and 
while  in  so  far  it  cultivates  attributes  that  are  not  only  tem- 
porarily essential,  but  are  steps  towards  attributes  that  are 
permanently  essential ;  yet  it  does  this  at  the  cost  of  main- 
taining, and  sometimes  increasing,  detrimental  attributes — 
attributes  intrinsically  anti-social.  Tlie  aggressions  which 
selfishness  prompts  (aggressions  which,  in  a  society,  have  to 
be  restrained  by  some  power  that  is  strong  in  f>roportion  as 
the  selfishness  is  intense)  can  diminish  only  as  fast  as  selfish- 
ness is  held  in  check  by  sympathy;  and  perpetual  warlike 
activities  repress  sympathy :  nay,  they  do  worse — they  culti- 
vate aggressiveness  to  the  extent  of  making  it  a  pleasure  to 
inflict  injury.  The  citizen  made  callous  by  the  killing  and 
wounding  of  enemies,  inevitably  brings  his  callousness  home 
w4th  him.  Fellow-feeling,  habitually  trampled  down  in  mili- 
tary conflicts,  cannot  at  the  same  time  be  active  in  the  rela- 
tions of  civil  life.  In  proportion  as  giving  pain  to  others  is 
made  a  habit  during  war,  it  will  remain  a  habit  during  peace  : 
inevitably  producing  in  the  behaviour  of  citizens  to  one 
another,  antagonisms,  crimes  of  violence,  and  multitudinous 
aggressions  of  minor  kinds,  tending  towards  a  disorder  that 
calls  for  coercive  government.  Nothing  like  a  high  type  of 
social  life  is  possible  without  a  type  of  human  character  in 
wliich  the  promptings  of  egoism  ai'e  duly  restrained  by  regard 
for  others.  The  necessities  of  war  imply  absolute  self-regard, 
and  absolute  disregard  of  certain  others.     Inevitably,  there- 


180  THE  STUDY   OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

fore,  the  civilizing  discipline  of  social  life  is  antagonized  by 
the  uncivilizing  discipline  of  the  life  war  involves.  So  that 
beyond  the  direct  mortality  and  miseries  entailed  by  war,  it 
entails  other  mortality  and  miseries  by  maintaining  anti-social 
sentiments  in  citizens. 

Taking  the  most  general  view  of  the  matter,  we  may  say 
that  only  when  the  sacred  duty  of  blood-revenge,  constituting 
the  religion  of  the  savage,  decreases  in  sacreduess,  does  there 
come  a  possibility  of  emergence  from  the  deepest  barbarism. 
Only  as  fast  as  retaliation,  which  for  a  mm-der  on  one  side  in- 
flicts a  murder  or  mvu'ders  on  the  other,  becomes  less  impera- 
tive, is  it  possible  for  larger  aggi'egates  of  men  to  hold  together 
and  civilization  to  commence.  And  so,  too,  out  of  lower 
stages  of  civilization  higher  ones  can  emerge,  only  as  there 
diminishes  tliis  pursuit  of  international  revenge  and  re-re- 
venge, which  the  code  we  inherit  from  the  savage  insists 
upon.  Such  advantages,  bodily  and  mental,  as  the  race  derives 
from  the  discipline  of  war,  are  exceeded  by  the  disadvantages, 
bodily  and  mental,  but  especially  mental,  which  result  after  a 
certain  stage  of  progress  is  reached.  Severe  and  bloody  as 
the  process  is,  the  killing-off  of  inferior  races  and  inferior 
individuals,  leaves  a  balance  of  benefit  to  mankind  durijig 
phases  of  progress  in  which  the  moral  development  is  low, 
and  there  are  no  quick  sympathies  to  be  continually  seared 
by  the  infliction  of  pain  and  death.  But  as  there  arise  higher 
societies,  implying  individual  characters  fitted  for  closer  co- 
operation, tlie  destructive  activities  exercised  by  such  higher 
societies  have  injurious  re-active  effects  on  the  moral  natures 
of  their  members — injurious  effects  which  outweigh  the  bene- 
fits resulting  from  extir])ation  of  inferior  races.  After  tliis 
stage  has  been  reached,  tlie  purifying  process,  continuing  still 
an  important  one,  remains  to  be  carried  on  by  industrial  war — 
by  a  competition  of  societies  during  which  the  best,  physically, 
emotionally,  and  intellectually,  siiroad  most,  and  leave  the 
least  cai)able  to  disai)i)ear  gradually,  from  failing  to  leave  a 
snllicicntly-nn morons  ^ujstcrity. 

Those  educated  in  the  religion  of  enmity — those  who  dur- 
ing boyhood,  when  the  instincts  of  the  savage  are  dominant, 
have  revelled  in  the  congenial  ideas  and  s(Mi(iments  which 
classic  poems  and  histories  yield  so  abundantly,  and  have  be 


THE  EDUCATIONAL  BIAS.  181 

come  confirmed  in  the  belief  that  war  is  virtuous  and  peace 
ignoble,  are  naturally  blind  to  truths  of  this  kind.  Rather 
should  we  say,  perhaps,  that  they  have  never  turned  their 
eyes  in  search  of  such  truths.  And  their  bias  is  so  strong  that 
nothing  more  than  a  nominal  recognition  of  such  truths  is 
possible  to  tliem ;  if  even  this.  What  perverted  conceptions 
of  social  phenomena  this  bias  produces,  may  be  seen  in  the 
following  passage  from  Gibbon  : — 

"  It  was  scarcely  possible  that  the  eyes  of  contemporaries  should  dis- 
cover in  the  public  felicity  the  causes  of  decay  and  corruption.  The 
long  peace,  mid  the  uniform  government  of  the  Romans,  had  introduced 
a  slow  and  secret  poison  into  the  vitals  of  the  empire." 

In  which  sentences  there  is  involved  the  general  proposition 
that  in  proportion  as  men  are  long  held  together  in  that  mu- 
tual dependence  which  social  co-operation  imijlies,  they  will 
become  less  fit  for  mutual  dependence  and  co-oi)eration — the 
society  will  tend  towards  dissolution.  While  in  proportion  as 
they  are  habituated  to  antagonism  and  to  destructive  activities, 
they  will  become  better  adapted  to  activities  requiring  union 
and  agreement. 

Thus  the  two  opposite  codes  in  which  we  are  educated,  and 
the  sentiments  enlisted  on  behalf  of  their  respective  precepts, 
inevitably  produce  misinterpretations  of  social  phenomena. 
Instead  of  acting  together,  now  this  and  now  the  other  sways 
the  beliefs ;  and  instead  of  consistent,  balanced  conclusions, 
there  results  a  jumble  of  contradictory  conclusions. 

It  is  time,  not  only  with  a  view  to  right  thinking  in  Social 
Science,  but  with  a  view  to  right  acting  in  daily  life,  that  this 
acceptance  in  the  unqualified  forms  of  two  creeds  which  con- 
tradict one  another  completely,  should  come  to  an  end.  Is  it 
not  a  folly  to  go  on  pretending  to  ourselves  and  others  that 
we  believe  certain  perpetually-repeated  maxims  of  entire  self- 
sacrifice,  which  we  daily  deny  by  our  business  activities,  by 
the  steps  we  take  to  protect  our  persons  and  property,  by  the 
approval  we  express  of  resistance  against  aggression  ?  Is  it 
not  a  dishonesty  to  repeat  in  tones  of  reverence,  maxims 
which  we  not  only  refuse  to  act  out  but  dimly  see  would  be 
mischievous  if  acted  out  ?  Everyone  must  admit  that  the 
relation  between  parent  and  child  is  one  in  which  altruism  is 


182  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

pushed  as  far  as  is  practicable.  Yet  even  here  there  needs  a 
predominant  egoism.  The  mother  can  suckle  her  infant  only 
on  condition  that  she  has  habitually  gi-atified  her  appetite  in 
due  degree.  And  there  is  a  point  beyond  which  sacrifice  of 
herself  is  fatal  to  her  mfant.  The  bread-winner,  too,  on  whom 
both  depend — is  it  not  undeniable  that  wife  and  child  can  be 
altruistically  treated  by  their  protector,  only  on  condition  that 
he  is  duly  egoistic  in  his  transactions  with  his  fellow  citizens  ? 
If  the  dictate — live  for  self,  is  wrong  iii  one  way,  the  opposite 
dictate — "  live  for  others,"  is  wrong  in  another  way.  The  ra- 
tional dictate  is — live  for  self  and  others.  And  if  we  all  do 
actually  believe  this,  as  our  conduct  conclusively  proves,  is  it 
not  better  for  us  distinctly  to  say  so,  rather  than  continue 
enunciating  principles  which  we  do  not  and  cannot  practise : 
thus  bringing  moral  teaching  itself  into  discredit  ? 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  time  that  a  ferocious  egoism,  which 
remauis  unatfected  by  this  irrational  altruism,  professed  but 
not  believed,  should  be  practically  modified  by  a  rational  al- 
truism. This  sacred  duty  of  blood-revenge,  insisted  on  by  the 
still-vigoi'ous  religion  of  enmity,  needs  qualifying  actually 
and  not  verbally.  Instead  of  senselessly  reiterating  in  cate- 
chisms and  church  services  the  duty  of  doing  good  to  those 
that  hate  us,  while  an  undoubting  belief  in  the  duty  of  retalia- 
tion is  imi>lied  by  our  ])arlianientary  debates,  the  articles  in 
our  journals,  and  the  convei'sations  over  our  tables,  it  would 
be  wiser  and  more  manly  to  consider  how  far  the  fii'st  should 
go  in  mitigation  of  the  last.  Is  it  stupidity  or  is  it  moral 
cowardice  which  leadsmen  to  continue  ^n-ofessinga  creed  that 
makes  self-.sacrifice  a  cardinal  principle,  while  they  m-ge  tiie 
sacrificing  of  others,  even  to  the  death,  when  they  trespass 
against  us  ?  Is  it  hliiuliiess,  or  is  it  an  insane  inconsistency, 
whi<-h  makes  th<nn  regard  as  most  admirable  tlie  bearing  of 
evil  for  the  iK^uelit  of  otliers,  while  they  lavish  admiration  on 
those  who,  out  of  revenge,  intlict  great  evils  in  retin-n  for 
small  ones  sufi'ered  ?  Snnly  onr  barbarian  code  of  right 
needs  revision,  and  our  l)arl)arian  standard  of  honour  slioii]<l 
be  somewhat  changed.  Ij(>t  us  deliberately  r(>cogniz»>  what 
good  they  represent  and  what  mixture  of  bad  there  is  with  it. 
Courage  is  worthy  of  respect  when  (lis])laye(l  in  the  mainte- 
nance of  legitimate  claims  .ind  in  the  reiM'lling  of  aggressions, 


THE  EDUCATIONAL  BIAS.  183 

bodily  or  other.  Courag-o  is  worthy  of  yet  higher  respect 
when  clanger  is  faced  in  defence  of  claims  common  to  self  and 
others,  as  in  resistance  to  invasion.  Courage  is  worthy  of 
the  highest  respect  when  risk  to  life  or  limb  is  dared  in  de- 
fence of  others ;  and  becomes  grand  when  those  others  have 
no  claims  of  relationship,  and  still  more  when  they  have  no 
claims  of  race.  But  though  a  bravery  which  is  altruistic 
in  its  motive  is  a  trait  we  cannot  too  highly  applaud,  and 
though  a  bravery  which  is  legitimately  egoistic  in  its  motive 
is  praiseworthy,  the  bravery  that  is  prompted  by  aggressive 
egoism  is  not  praiseworthy.  The  admiration  accorded  to  the 
"  j)luck  "  of  one  who  fights  in  a  base  cause  is  a  vicious  ad- 
miration, demoralizing  to  those  who  feel  it.  Like  the  physi- 
cal powers,  courage,  which  is  a  concomitant  of  these,  is  to  be 
regarded  as  a  servant  of  the  higher  emotions — very  valuable, 
indispensable  even,  in  its  place  ;  and  to  be  honoured  when  dis- 
charging its  function  in  subordination  to  these  higher  emo- 
tions. But  otherwise  not  more  to  be  honoured  than  the  like 
attribute  as  seen  in  brutes. 

Quite  enough  has  been  said  to  show  that  there  must  be  a 
compromise  between  the  opposite  standards  of  conduct  on 
which  the  religions  of  amity  and  enmity  respectively  insist, 
before  there  can  be  scientific  conceptions  of  social  phenomena. 
Even  on  passing  affairs,  such  as  the  proceedings  of  philan- 
thropic bodies  and  the  dealings  of  nation  with  nation,  there 
cannot  be  rational  judgments  without  a  balance  between  the 
self-asserting  emotions  and  the  emotions  which  put  a  limit  to 
self-assertion,  with  an  adjustment  of  the  corresponding  beliefs. 
Still  less  can  there  be  rational  judgments  of  past  social  evolu- 
tion, or  of  social  evolution  in  the  future,  if  the  opposing  actions 
which  these  opposing  creeds  sanction,  are  not  both  continuously 
recognized  as  essential.  No  mere  impulsive  recognition,  now 
of  the  purely-egoistic  doctrine  and  now  of  the  purely-altruistic 
one,  will  suffice.  The  curve  described  by  a  planet  cannot  be 
understood  by  thinking  at  one  moment  of  the  centripetal  force 
and  at  another  mometit  of  the  tangential  force ;  but  the  two 
must  be  kept  before  consciousness  as  acting  simultaneously. 
And  similarly,  to  understand  social  progress  in  the  vast  sweep 
of  its  course,  there  must  be  ever  present  to  the  mind,  the 
egoistic  and  the  altruistic  forces  as  co-operative  factors  equally 


184  THE   STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

indispensable,  and  neither  of  them  to  be  ignored  or  repro- 
bated. 

The  criticism  likely  to  be  passed  on  this  chapter,  that 
"  The  Educational  Bias "  is  far  too  comprehensive  a  title  for 
it,  is  quite  justifiable.  There  are  in  truth  few,  if  any,  of  the 
several  kinds  of  bias,  that  are  not  largely,  or  in  some  meas- 
ure, caused  by  education — using  this  word  in  an  extended 
ssene.  As,  however,  all  of  them  could  not  be  dealt  with  in 
one  chapter,  it  seemed  best  to  select  these  two  opposite  forms 
of  bias  which  are  directly  traceable  to  teacliings  of  opposite 
dogmas,  and  fosterings  of  opposite  sentiments,  during  early 
life.  Merely  recognizing  the  fact  that  education  lias  much 
to  do  with  the  other  kinds  of  bias,  we  may  now  most  con- 
veniently deal  with  these  each  under  its  specific  title. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE   BIAS  OF   PATRIOTISM. 

"  Our  country,  right  or  wrong,"  is  a  sentiment  not  unfre- 
quently  expi'cssed  on  the  otlier  side  of  the  Atlantic ;  and,  if 
I  remember  rightly,  an  equivalent  sentiment  was  some  years 
ago  uttered  in  our  own  House  of  Commons,  by  one  who 
rejoices,  or  at  least  who  once  rejoiced,  in  the  title  of  philo- 
sophical Radical. 

Whoever  entertains  such  a  sentiment  has  not  that  equi- 
librium of  feeling  required  for  dealing  scientifically  with 
social  i^henomena.  To  see  how  things  stand,  apart  from 
personal  and  national  interests,  is  essential  before  there  can 
be  reached  those  balanced  judgments  respecting  the  course 
of  human  affairs  in  general,  which  constitute  Sociology.  To 
be  convinced  of  this,  it  needs  but  to  take  a  case  remote  from 
our  own.  Ask  how  the  members  of  an  aboriginal  tribe  re- 
gard that  tide  of  civilization  which  sweeps  them  away.  Ask 
what  the  North-American  Indians  said  about  the  spread  of 
the  white  man  over  their  territories,  or  what  the  ancient 
Britons  thought  of  the  invasions  which  dispossessed  them  of 
England ;  and  it  becomes  clear  that  events  which,  looked  at 
from  an  un-national  point  of  view,  were  steps  towards  a 
higher  life,  seemed  from  a  national  point  of  view  entirely 
evil.  Admitting  the  truth  so  easily  perceived  in  these  cases, 
we  must  admit  that  only  in  proportion  as  we  emancipate 
ourselves  from  the  bias  of  patriotism,  and  consider  our  own 
society  as  one  among  many,  having  their  histories  and  their 
futures,  and  some  of  them,  perhaps,  having  better  claims  than 
we  have  to  the  inlieritance  of  the  Earth — only  in  proportion 
as  we  do  this,  shall  we  i^ecognize  those  sociological  truths 

185 


186  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

which  have  nothing  to  do  with  particular  nations  or  par- 
ticular races. 

So  to  emancipate  ourselves  is  extremely  difRcult.  It  is 
with  patriotism  as  we  lately  saw  it  to  be  with  the  sentiment 
causing  political  subordination :  the  very  existence  of  a  so- 
ciety implies  predominance  of  it.  The  two  sentiments  join 
in  producing  that  social  cohesion  without  which  there  cannot 
be  co-operation  and  organization.  A  nationality  is  made 
possible  only  by  the  feeling  which  the  units  have  for  the 
whole  they  form.  Indeed,  we  may  say  that  the  feeling  has 
been  gradually  increased  by  the  continual  destroying  of  types 
of  men  whose  attachments  to  their  societies  were  relatively 
small ;  and  who  are  thei-efore  incapable  of  making  adequate 
sacrifices  on  behalf  of  their  societies.  Here,  again,  we  are 
reminded  that  the  citizen,  by  his  incorporation  in  a  body 
politic,  is  in  a  great  degree  coerced  into  such  sentiments  and 
beliefs  as  further  its  preservation :  unless  this  is  the  average 
result  the  body  politic  will  not  be  preserved.  Hence  another 
obstacle  in  the  way  of  Social  Science.  We  have  to  allow 
for  the  aberrations  of  judgment  caused  by  the  sentiment  of 
patriotism. 

Patriotism  is  nationally  that  which  egoism  is  individually 
— has,  in  fact,  the  same  root ;  and  along  with  kindred  benefits 
brings  kindi*ed  evils.  Estimation  of  one's  society  is  a  reflex 
of  self-estimation ;  and  assertion  of  one's  society's  claims  is 
an  indirect  assertion  of  one's  own  claims  as  a  part  of  it.  The 
pride  a  citizen  feels  in  a  national  achievement,  is  tlie  pride  in 
belonging  to  a  nation  capable  of  that  achievement:  the  be- 
longing to  such  a  nation  having  the  tacit  implication  that 
in  himself  there  exists  the  superiority  of  nature  displayed. 
And  the  anger  aroused  in  him  by  an  aggression  on  his  nation, 
is  an  anger  against  something  which  threatens  to  iiijun'  him 
also,  by  iiijiM'ing  his  iiiition. 

As,  lately,  we  saw  that  a  duly-adjusted  egoism  is  essential  ; 
so  now.  we  may  see  tliat  a  duly-adjusted  ])atriotisni  is  essen- 
tial. Self-regard  in  excess  produci's  two  classes  of  evils:  by 
prompting  undue  a.ssertion  of  |)ersonal  claims  it  breeds  aggres- 
sion and  .•iiitagonisiii  ;  and  hy  er(>atiiig  uiidu(>  estimation  of 
personal  powers  it  excites  futih^  eilorts  that  end  in  catastro- 


THE  BIAS  OF  PATRIOTISM.  187 

plies.  Deficient  self-regard  produces  two  opposite  classes  of 
evils  :  by  not  asserting  personal  claims,  it  invites  aggression, 
so  fostering  selfishness  in  others;  and  by  not  adequately 
valuing  personal  powers  it  causes  a  falling  short  of  attain- 
able benefits.  Similarly  with  patriotism.  From  too  nmch, 
there  result  national  aggressiveness  and  national  vanity. 
Along  with  too  little,  there  goes  an  insufficient  tendency  to 
maintain  national  claims,  leading  to  trespasses  by  other 
nations;  and  there  goes  an  undervaluing  of  national  capa- 
cities and  institutions,  which  is  discouraging  to  effort  and 
progress. 

The  effects  of  patriotic  feeling  which  here  concern  us,  are 
those  it  works  on  belief  rather  than  those  it  works  on  conduct. 
As  dispi^oportionate  egoism,  by  distorting  a  man's  conceptions 
of  self  and  of  others,  vitiates  his  conclusions  respecting  hu- 
man nature  and  human  actions ;  so,  disproportionate  patriot- 
ism, by  distorting  his  conceptions  of  his  own  society  and  of 
other  societies,  vitiates  his  conclusions  respecting  the  natures 
and  actions  of  societies.  And  from  the  opposite  extremes 
there  result  opposite  distortions;  which,  however,  are  com- 
paratively infrequent  and  much  less  detrimental. 

Here  we  come  upon  one  of  the  many  ways  in  which  the 
corporate  conscience  proves  itself  less  developed  than  the 
individual  conscience.  For  while  excess  of  egoism  is  every- 
where regarded  as  a  fault,  excess  of  patriotism  is  nowhere 
regarded  as  a  fault.  A  man  who  recognizes  his  own  errors  of 
conduct  and  his  own  deficiencies  of  faculty,  shows  a  trait  of 
character  considered  pi^aiseworthy ;  but  to  admit  that  our 
doings  toward  other  nations  have  been  WTong  is  reprobated 
as  unpatriotic.  Defending  the  acts  of  another  people  with 
whom  we  have  a  difference  seems  to  most  citizens  something 
like  treason  ;  and  they  use  offensive  comparisons  concerning 
birds  and  their  nests,  by  way  of  condemning  those  who  as- 
cribe misconduct  to  our  own  people  rather  than  to  the  people 
with  whom  we  are  at  variance.  Not  only  do  they  exhibit 
the  unchecked  sway  of  this  reflex  egoism  which  constitutes 
patriotism — not  only  are  they  unconscious  that  there  is  any- 
thing blameworthy  in  giving  the  rein  to  this  feeling ;  but 
they  think  the  blameworthiness  is  in  those  who  resti'ain  it, 
and  try  to  see  w4iat  may  be  said  on  both  sides.    Judge,  then, 


18S  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

how  seriously  the  patriotic  bias,  thus  perverting  our  judg- 
ments about  international  actions,  necessarily  perverts  our 
judgments  about  the  characters  of  other  societies,  and  so 
vitiates  sociological  conclusions. 

We  have  to  guard  om^selves  against  this  bias.  To  this  end 
let  us  take  some  examples  of  the  errors  attributable  to  it. 

What  mistaken  estunates  of  other  races  may  result  from 
over-estimation  of  one's  own  race,  will  be  most  vividly  shown 
by  a  case  in  which  we  are  ourselves  valued  at  a  very  low  rate 
by  a  race  we  hold  to  be  fai*  inferior.  Here  is  such  a  case 
supplied  by  a  tribe  of  negroes  : — 

"  They  amused  themselves  by  remarking  on  the  sly,  '  The  white 
man  is  an  old  ape.'  The  African  will  say  of  the  European,  '  He  looks 
like  folks,'  [men],  and  the  answer  will  often  be, '  No,  he  don't.'  ,  .  . 
Whilst  the  Caucasian  doubts  the  humanity  of  the  Hamite,  the  latter 
repays  the  compliment  in  kind."  ' 

Does  anyone  think  this  instance  so  far  out  of  the  ordinary 
track  of  error  as  to  have  no  instruction  for  us  ?  To  see  the 
contrary  he  has  but  to  look  at  the  caricatures  of  Frenchmen 
that  were  common  a  generation  ago,  or  to  remember  the  pop- 
ular statement  then  current  respecting  the  relative  strengths 
of  French  and  English.  Such  reminders  will  convince  him 
that  the  reflex  self-esteem  we  call  patriotism,  has  had,  among 
ourselves,  perverting  effects  sufficiently  striking.  And  even 
now  there  are  kindred  opinions  wliich  the  facts,  when  exam- 
ined, do  not  bear  out :  instance  the  opinion  respecting  personal 
beauty.  That  the  bias  thus  causing  misjudgments  in  cases 
where  it  is  checked  by  direct  perception,  causes  greater  mis- 
judgments  whore  direct  ])erce])lion  cannot  chock  it,  needs  no 
proof.  How  great  are  tlie  mistakes  it  generates,  all  histt)rios 
of  international  struggles  show  us,  both  by  the  contradictory 
estimates  the  two  sides  form  of  their  rcpective  loaders  and  by 
the  contradictory  estimates  the  two  sides  form  of  their  deeds. 
Take  an  example: — 

"Of  the  character  in  which  Wallace  first  became  formidable,  the 
accounts  of  literature  arc  distractingly  conflicting.  With  the  chroni- 
clers of  bis  own  country,  who  write  after  the  War  of  Tndcpondonce,  ho 
is  raised  to  the  liighcst  pinnacle  of  niHgnanimity  and  licroisin.  To 
the  Engiisli  contemporary  clironiclers  he  is  a  i)cstilent  rulllan;  a  dis- 


THE  BIAS  OP  PATRIOTISM.  189 

turber  of  the  peace  of  society;  an  outrager  of  all  laws  and  social 
duties ;  finally,  a  robber — the  head  of  one  of  many  bands  of  robbers 
and  marauders  then  infesting  Scotland."  * 

That,  along  with  such  opposite  distortions  of  belief  about 
conspicuous  persons,  there  go  opposite  distortions  of  belief 
about  the  conduct  of  the  peoples  they  belong  to,  the  accounts 
of  every  war  demonstrate.     Like  the  one-sidedness  shown 
within  our  own  society  by  the  remembrance  among  Protes- 
tants of  Roman  Catholic  cruelties  only,  and  by  the  remem- 
brance among  Roman  Catholics  of  Protestant  cruelties  only, 
is  the  one-sidedness  shown  in  the  traditions  preserved  by  each 
nation  concerning  the  barbarities  of  nations  it  has  fought 
with.     As  in  old  times  the  Normans,  vindictive  themselves, 
were  shocked  at  the  vindictiveness  of  the  English  when  driven 
to  bay ;  so  in  recent  times  the  French  have  enlarged  on  the 
atrocities  committed  by  Spanish  guerillas,  and  the  Russians 
on  the  atrocities  the  Circassians  perpetrated.     In  this  conflict 
between  the  views  of  those  who  commit  savage  acts,  and  the 
views  of  those  on  whom  they  are  committed,  we  clearly  per- 
ceive the  bias  of  patriotism  where  both  sides  are  aliens ;  but 
we  fail  to  perceive  it  where  we  are  ourselves  concerned  as 
actors.     Every  one  old  enough  remembers   the   reprobation 
vented  here  when  the  French  in  Algiers  dealt  so  cruelly  with 
Arabs  who  refused  to  submit — lighting  fires  at  the  mouths  of 
caves  in  which  they  had  taken  refuge ;  but  we  do  not  see  a 
like  barbarity  in  deeds  of  our  own  in  India,  such  as  the  ex- 
ecuting a  group  of  rebel  sepoys  by  fusillade,  and  then  setting 
fire  to  the  heap  of  them  because  they  were  not  all  dead,'  or  in 
the  wholesale  shootings  and  burnings  of  houses,  after  the  sup- 
pression of  the  Jamaica  insurrection.     Listen  to  what  is  said 
about  such  deeds  in  our  own  colonies,  and  you  find  that  habit- 
ually they  are  held  to  have  been  justified  by  the  necessities  of 
the  case.    Listen  to  what  is  said  about  such  deeds  when  other 
nations  are  guilty  of  them,  and  you  find  the  same  persons  in- 
dignantly declare  that  no  alleged  necessities  could  form  a  jus- 
tification.    Nay,  the  bias  produces  perversions  of  judgment 
even  more  extreme.     Feelings  and  deeds  we  laud  as  virtuous 
when  they  are  not  in  antagonism  with  our  own  interests  and 
power,  we  think  vicious  feelings  and  deeds  when  om*  own  in- 
terests and  power  are  endangered  by  them.     Equally  in  the 


190  THE  STUDY   OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

mythical  story  of  Tell  and  in  any  account  not  mythical,  we 
read  with  glowing  admiration  of  the  successful  rising  of  an 
oppressed  race  ;  but  admiration  is  changed  into  indignation  if 
the  race  is  one  held  down  by  om'selves.  We  can  see  nothing 
save  crime  in  the  endeavour  of  the  Hindus  to  throw  off  our 
yoke  ;  and  we  recognize  no  excuse  for  the  efforts  of  the  Irish 
to  establish  their  independent  nationality.  We  entirely  ig- 
nore the  fact  that  the  motives  are  in  all  such  cases  the  same, 
and  are  to  be  judged  apart  from  results. 

A  bias  which  thus  vitiates  even  the  perceptions  of  physical 
appearances,  which  immensely  distorts  the  beliefs  about  con- 
spicuous antagonists  and  their  deeds,  which  leads  us  to  repro- 
bate when  others  conmiit  them,  severities  and  cruelties  we 
applaud  when  committed  by  our  own  agents,  and  which 
makes  us  regard  acts  of  intrinsically  the  same  kind  as  wrong 
or  right  according  as  they  are  or  are  not  directed  against  our- 
selves, is  a  bias  which  inevitably  perverts  our  sociological 
ideas.  The  institutions  of  a  despised  people  cannot  be  judged 
with  fairness ;  and  if,  as  often  liappens,  the  contempt  is  un- 
warranted, or  but  partially  warranted,  such  value  as  their 
institutions  have  will  certainly  be  under-estimated.  When 
antagonism  has  bred  hatred  towards  another  nation,  and  has 
consequently  bred  a  desire  to  justify  the  hatred  by  ascribing 
hateful  characters  to  members  of  that  nation,  it  inevitably 
hai)pons  that  the  political  arrangements  under  which  they 
live,  the  religion  they  profess,  and  the  habits  j)eculiar  to 
them,  become  associated  in  thought  with  these  hateful  char- 
acters— become  themselves  hateful,  and  cannot  therefore  have 
their  natures  studied  with  the  calmness  required  by  science. 

An  example  will  make  this  clear.  The  reflex  egoism  we 
name  patriotism,  causing  among  other  things  a  high  valua- 
tion of  the  religious  creed  ii.ition.illy  professed,  makes  us 
override;  the  effects  this  creed  has  ))i'iulu('(>d.  and  makes  us 
underrate  the  eilVcts  jjroduced  by  other  creeds  and  by  influ- 
ences of  other  orders.  The  notions  respecting  savage  and 
civilized  races,  in  w  liicli  we  are  brought  up,  show  this. 

TIk^  word  savag<!,  originally  inclining  wild  or  uncnltiv;ited, 
lias  eoine  U)  mean  cruel  and  blood-thirsty,  because  of  the  rej)- 
rescntations  habitually  niad<'  that  wild  or  uncultivated  ti-ibes 


THE  BIAS  OP  PATRIOTISM.  191 

of  men  are  cruel  and  blood-tliirsty.  And  ferocity  being  now 
always  thought  of  as  a  constant  attribute  of  uncivilized  races, 
which  are  also  distinguished  by  not  having  our  religion,  it  is 
tacitly  assumed  that  the  absence  of  our  religion  is  the  cause 
of  this  ferocity.  But  if,  struggling  successfully  against  the 
bias  of  patriotism,  we  correct  the  evidence  which  that  bias 
has  garbled,  we  find  ourselves  obliged  to  modify  this  assump- 
tion. 

When,  for  instance,  we  read  Cook's  account  of  the  Tahi- 
tians,  as  first  visited  by  him,  we  are  sur])rised  to  meet  with 
some  traits  among  them,  higher  than  those  of  their  civilized 
visitors.  Though  pilfering  was  committed  by  them,  it  was 
not  so  serious  as  that  of  which  the  sailors  were  guilty  in  steal- 
ing the  iron  bolts  out  of  their  owji  ship  to  pay  the  native 
women.  And  when,  after  Cook  had  enacted  a  penalty  for 
theft,  the  natives  complained  of  one  of  his  own  crew — when 
this  sailor,  convicted  of  the  offence  he  was  charged  with,  was 
condemned  to  be  whipped,  the  natives  tried  to  get  him  off, 
and  failing  to  do  this,  shed  tears  on  seeing  preparations  for 
the  punishment.  If,  again,  we  compare  critically  the  accounts 
of  Cook's  death,  we  see  clearly  that  the  Sandwich  Islanders 
behaved  amicably  until  they  had  been  ill-used,  and  had  rea- 
son to  fear  further  ill-usage.  The  experiences  of  many  other 
travellers  similarly  show  us  that  friendly  conduct  on  the  part 
of  uncivilized  races  when  first  visited,  is  very  general ;  and 
that  their  subsequent  unfriendly'  conduct,  when  it  occurs,  is 
nothing  but  retaliation  for  injuries  received  from  the  civilized. 
Such  a  fact  as  tliat  the  natives  of  Queen  Charlotte's  Island  did 
not  attack  Captain  Carteret's  pai*ty  till  after  they  had  received 
just  cause  of  offence,*  may  be  taken  as  typical  of  the  histories 
of  transactions  between  wild  races  and  cultivated  races. 
When  we  inquire  into  the  case  of  the  missionary  Williams, 
"the  Martyr  of  Erromanga,"  we  discover  that  his  murder,  di- 
lated upon  as  proving  the  wickedness  of  unreclaimed  natures, 
was  a  revenge  for  injuries  previously  suffered  from  wicked 
Europeans.  Read  a  few  testimonies  about  the  relative  be- 
haviours of  civilized  and  uncivilized  : — 

"  After  we  had  killed  a  man  at  the  Marquesas,  grievously  wounded 
one  at  Easter  Island,  hooked  a  third  with  a  boat-hook  at  Tonga-tabu, 
wounded  one  at  Nanioeka,  another  at  iMaiiicoilo,  and  killed  r.notiicr  at 

14 


192  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

Tanna ;  the  several  inhabitants  behaved  in  a  civil  and  harmless  man- 
ner to  us,  though  they  might  have  taken  ample  revenge  by  cutting  off 
our  straggling  parties."  * 

'•  Excepting  at  Cafta,  where  I  was  for  a  time  supposed  to  come 
with  hostile  intent,  I  was  treated  inhospitably  by  no  one  during  all  my 
travels,  excepting  by  Europeans,  who  had  nothing  against  me  but  my 
apparent  poverty."  ^ 

"  In  February,  1812,  the  people  of  Winnebah  [Gold  CoastJ  seized 
their  commandant,  Mr.  Meredith,"  and  so  maltreated  him  that  he 
died.  The  town  and  fort  were  destroyed  by  the  English.  "  For  many 
years  afterwards,  English  vessels  passing  Winnebah  were  in  the  habit 
of  pouring  a  broadside  into  the  town,  to  inspire  the  natives  with  an 
idea  of  the  severe  vengeance  which  would  be  exacted  for  the  spilling 
of  European  blood," ' 

Or,  iustead  of  these  separate  testimonies,  take  the  opinion  of 
one  who  collected  many  testimonies.  Referring  to  the  kind 
treatment  experienced  by  Enciso  from  the  natives  of  Car- 
tagena (on  the  coast  of  New  Granada),  who  a  few  years  before 
had  been  cinielly  treated  by  the  Spaniards,  Washington  Irving 
says : — 

"  When  we  recall  the  bloody  and  indiscriminate  vengeance  wreaked 
upon  this  people  by  Ojida  and  his  followers  for  their  justifiable  resist- 
ance of  invasion,  and  compare  it  with  tiieir  placable  and  considerate 
spirit  when  an  opportuiiily  for  revenge  presented  itself,  we  confess  wo 
feel  a  momentary  doubt  whether  the  arbitrary  appellation  of  savage  is 
always  applied  to  the  right  party."  ^ 

The  reasonahlonoss  of  this  douht  will  scarcely  be  ques- 
tioned, after  reading  of  the  diabolical  cruelties  coniniitted  by 
the  invading  Europeans  in  America;  as,  for  instance,  in  St. 
Domingo,  where  the  French  made  the  natives  kneel  in  rows 
along  tlie  exlge  of  a  dec^])  liviich  and  shot  them  batch  after 
batch,  until  the  trench  was  full,  or,  us  an  easier  method,  tied 
numbers  of  them  together,  t<^)ok  them  out  to  sea,  and  tumbled 
ilicni  overboard;  and  where  the  Spaniards  treated  so  horribly 
tlie  enslaved  natives,  that  llieso  killed  tluMiisclvcs  wholesale : 
the  varioiLS  modes  of  suicide  being  hIiowm  in  Si)ani.sli  draw- 
ings. 

Does  the  Kuglislnnan  say  1h;it  llirse,  and  liosts  of  like 
demoniacnl  misdeeds,  are  the  mistleeds  of  oilier  civilized  races 
in  olliertiines;  and  that  lliey  are  atlributable  to  that  corrujjted 
religion   uljirli  )jo  repudiales  ;     Jf  mt,  Ije  may  l)e  reminded 


THE  BIAS  OF  PATRIOTISM.  I93 

that  sundry  of  the  above  facts  are  facts  against  ourselves.  He 
may  be  reminded,  too,  tliat  the  purer  religion  he  professes  has 
not  prevented  a  kindred  treatment  of  the  North  American  In- 
dians by  (mr  own  race.  And  he  may  be  put  to  the  blush  by 
accounts  of  barbarities  going-  on  in  our  own  colonies  at  the 
present  time.  Without  dctiiiling  these,  however,  it  will  suf- 
fice to  recall  the  most  recent  notorious  case — that  of  the  kid- 
nappings and  murders  in  the  South  Seas.  Here  we  find  re- 
peated the  typical  transactions : — betrayals  of  many  natives 
and  merciless  sacrifices  of  their  lives  ;  eventual  retaliation  by 
the  natives  to  a  small  extent ;  a  consequent  charge  against  the 
natives  of  atrocious  murder ;  and  finally,  a  massacre  of  them, 
innocent  and  guilty  together. 

See,  then,  how  the  bias  of  patriotism  indirectly  produces 
erroneous  views  of  the  effects  of  an  institution.  Blinded  by  na- 
tional self-love  to  the  badness  of  our  conduct  towards  inferior 
races,  while  remembering  what  there  is  of  good  in  our  con- 
duct ;  forgetting  how  well  these  inferior  races  have  usually 
behaved  to  us,  and  remembering  only  their  misbehaviour, 
which  we  refrain  from  tracing  to  its  cause  in  our  own  trans- 
gressions ;  we  over-value  our  own  natures  as  compared  with 
theirs.  And  then,  looking  at  the  two  as  respectively  Christian 
and  Heathen,  we  over-rate  the  good  done  by  Christian  institu- 
tions (which  has  doubtless  been  great),  and  we  under-rate  the 
advance  that  has  been  made  without  them.  We  do  this  ha- 
bitually in  other  cases.  As,  for  instance,  when  we  ignore  evi- 
dence furnished  by  the  history  of  Buddhism  ;  respecting  the 
founder  of  which  Canon  Liddon  lately  told  his  hearers  that 
"  it  might  be  impossible  for  honest  Christians  to  think  over 
the  career  of  this  heathen  Prince  without  some  keen  feelings 
of  humiliation  and  shame."  *  And  ignoring  all  such  evidence, 
we  get  one-sided  impressions.  Thus  our  sociological  concep- 
tions are  distorted — do  not  correspond  with  the  facts ;  that  is, 
are  unscientific. 

To  illustrate  some  among  the  many  effects  wrought  by  the 
bias  of  patriotism  in  other  nations,  and  to  show  how  mischiev- 
ous are  the  beliefs  it  fo.sters,  I  may  here  cite  evidence  fur- 
nished by  France  and  by  Germany. 

Contemplate  that  undue  self -estimation  which  the  French 


294  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

have  shown  us.  Observe  what  has  resulted  from  that  exceed- 
ing faith  in  French  power  which  the  writings  of  M.  Thiei-s  did 
so  much  to  maintain  and  inci-ease.  When  we  remember  how, 
by  causing  under-valuatiou  of  other  nations,  it  led  to  a  disre- 
gard of  their  ideas  and  an  ignorance  of  their  doings — when  we 
remember  how,  in  the  late  war,  the  French,  confident  of  vic- 
tory, had  maps  of  German  territory  but  not  of  their  own,  and 
suffered  catastrophes  from  this  and  other  kinds  of  unprepared- 
ness ;  we  see  what  fatal  evils  this  reflex  self-esteem  may  pro- 
duce when  in  excess.  So,  too,  on  studjang  the  way  in 
■which  it  has  influenced  French  thought  in  other  directions. 
On  reading  the  assertion,  "La  chimie  est  une  science  fran- 
^aise,"  with  which  Wm'tz  commences  his  Histoire  des  Doc- 
trines Chimiques,  one  cannot  but  see  that  the  feeling  which 
prompted  such  an  assertion  must  vitiate  the  comparisons  made 
between  things  in  France  and  things  elsewhere.  Looking  at 
Crimean  battle-pieces,  in  which  French  soldiers  are  shown  to 
have  achieved  everything — looking  at  a  picture  like  Ingres' 
"  Crowning  of  Homer,"  and  noting  French  poets  conspicuous 
in  the  foregi-ound,  while  the  figure  of  Shakspeare  in  one 
corner  is  half  in  and  half  out  of  the  picture — I'eading  the 
names  of  great  men  of  all  nations  inscribed  on  the  string- 
course running  round  the  Palais  de  P Industrie,  and  finding 
many  unfamiliar  Fx'ench  names,  while  (strange  oversight,  as 
we  must  suppose)  the  name  of  Newton  is  conspicuous  by  its 
absence;  we  see  exemplified  a  national  sentiment  which,  gen- 
erating the  belief  that  things  not  French  deserve  little  atten- 
tion, acts  injuriously  on  French  thought  and  French  progress. 
From  Victor  Hugo's  magniloquent  description  of  France  as 
the  "  Saviour  of  Nations,"  down  to  ihn  dcchimatious  of  those 
who  urged  that  were  Paris  destroyed  tlie  light  of  civilization 
would  be  extinguished,  we  see  thi'oughout,  the  conviction  that 
France  is  the  teacher,  and  by  implication  needs  not  to  be  a 
learner.  The  dilTusion  of  French  ideas  is  an  essential  thing 
for  (jtlier  nations ;  while  the  absorj)tion  of  ideas  from  other 
nations  is  not  an  essential  thing  for  France:  the  truth  being, 
rather,  tliat  Fi'ench  ideas,  more  than  most  other  ideas,  stand 
in  need  of  fonugn  influence  to  (jualify  the  undue  definiteness 
and  dogmatic  charaete)-  they  hahitually  dis])lay.  Tiiat 
Huch  a  tone  of  feeling,  and  the  mode  of  thinking  appropriate 


THE   BIAS  OP   PATRIOTISM.  195 

to  it,  should  vitiate  sociological  speculatioji,  is  a  mattei'  of 
course.  If  there  needs  proof,  we  have  a  conspicuous  one  in  the 
writings  of  M.  Comte ;  where  excessive  self -estimation  under 
its  direct  form,  and  under  that  reflex  form  constituting  patriot- 
ism, has  led  to  astounding  sociological  misconceptions.  If  we 
contemplate  that  scheme  of  Positivist  reorganization  and  feder- 
ation m  which  France  was,  of  course,  to  be  the  leader — if  we 
note  the  fact  that  M.  Comte  expected  the  transformation  he  so 
rigorously  formulated  to  take  place  during  the  life  of  his  own 
generation ;  and  if,  then,  we  remember  what  has  since  hap- 
pened, and  consider  what  are  the  probabilities  of  the  future, 
we  shall  not  fail  to  see  that  great  perversions  are  produced  by 
this  bias  in  the  conceptions  of  social  phenomena. 

How  national  self-esteem,  exalted  by  success  in  war,  warps 
opinions  about  public  all'airs,  is  again  shown  of  late  in  Ger- 
many. As  a  German  professor  writes  to.me  : — "  there  is,  alas, 
no  want  of  signs  "  that  the  "  happy  contrast  to  French  self- 
sufficiency"  which  Germany  heretofore  displayed,  is  disap- 
pearing "  since  the  glory  of  the  late  victories."  The  German 
liberals,  he  says,  "  overflow  with  talk  of  Gei*manism,  German 
unity,  the  German  nation,  the  German  empire,  the  German 
array  and  the  German  navy,  the  German  church,  and  German 

science They  ridicule  Frenchmen,  and  what  animates 

them  is,  after  all,  the  French  sjiirit  translated  into  Ger- 
man." To  illustrate  the  injurious  reaction  on  German 
thought,  and  on  the  estimates  of  foreign  nations  and  their  do- 
ings, he  describes  a  discussion  with  an  esteemed  German  profes- 
sor of  philosophy,  against  whom  he  was  contending  that  the 
psychical  and  ethical  sciences  would  gain  in  progress  and  inllu- 
ence  by  international  communion,  like  that  among  the  physico- 
mathematical  sciences.  He  "  to  my  astonishment  declared  that 
even  if  such  an  union  were  possible,  he  did  not  think  it  desir- 
able, as  it  would  interfere  too  much  Avith  the  peculiarity  of  Ger- 
man thought Second  to  Germany,"  he  said,  "  it  was  Italy, 

which,  in  the  immediate  futui'e,  was  most  likely  to  promote 

philosophy It  ap])eared  that  what  made  him  prefer  the 

Italians  ....  was  nothing  else  than  his  having  observed  that 
in  Italy  they  were  acquainted  with  every  philosophical  treatise 
published  in  Germany,  however  unimportant."  And  thus, 
adds  my  correspondent,  "the  fbiest  German  chai'acteristics 


IQQ  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

are  disappearing  in  an  exaggerated  Teutonomania."  One 

more  truth  his  comments  on  German  feeling  disclose.  An  in- 
direct antagonism  exists  between  the  sentiment  of  nationality 
and  the  sentiment  of  individuality  ;  the  result  of  which  is  that 
exaltation  of  the  one  involves  depression  of  the  other,  and  a 
decreased  regard  for  the  institutions  it  originates.  Speaking 
of  the  "  so-called  National  Liberals,"  he  says  :— "  A  friend  of 
mine  was  lately  present  at  a  discussion,  in  the  course  of  which 

a  professor  of  philosophy,  of  the  University  of ,  was  very 

eloquently,  and  with  perfect  seriousness,  contending  that  only 
one  thing  is  now  wanted  to  complete  our  German  institutions 
—a  national  costume.  Other  people,  who,  no  doubt,  are  fully 
aware  of  the  ridiculousness  of  such  things,  are  nevertheless 
guilty  of  an  equally  absurd  and  even  more-intolerable  en- 
croachment on  individual  liberty ;  since,  by  proposing  to  es- 
tablish a  national  church,  they  aim  at  constraining  the  adher- 
ents of  the  various  religious  bodies  into  a  spiritual  uniform. 
Indeed,  I  should  hardly  have  thought  it  possible  that  a  Ger- 
man government  could  encourage  such  monstrous  proposi- 
tions, if  they  had  not  been  expounded  to  me  at  the  Ministry 
of  Public  Worship." 

Saying  no  more  about  patriotism  and  its  perverting  effects 
on  sociological  judgments,  which  are,  indeed,  so  conspicuous 
all  through  history  as  scarcely  to  need  pointing  out,  let  me 
devote  the  remaining  space  to  the  iKn-vcrtiiig  (effects  of  the 
opposite  feeling— anti-patriotism.  Tliough  the  distortions  of 
opinion  hence  resulting  are  less  serious,  still  they  have  to  be 
guarded  against. 

In  England  the  bias  of  anti-patriotism  does  not  diminish  in 
a  marked  way  the  admiration  we  have  for  our  political  insti- 
tutions; but  only  here  and  there  prompts  the  wisli  for  a  strong 
government,  to  secure  the  envied  benefits  ascribed  to  strong 
governiiicnis  abroad.  Nor  does  it  a])preciably  modify  the  gen- 
eral attiicbment  to  our  religious  institutions;  but  only  in  a 
few  Avlio  dislike  indcii(Mul(Mic(N  shows  itself  in  advocacy  of  an 
autlioritative  ecclesiMstical  system,  fitted  to  remedy  what  they 
lament  :is  a  cliaos  of  religious  beliefs.  In  other  directions, 
however,  it  is  disjjbiyed  so  fn^piently  and  cons))icnonsly  as  to 
affect  i)ii1)li<'  oitinion  in  an  injurious  way.     In   respect  to  the 


THE   BIAS   OF   PATRIOTISM.  197 

higher  orders  of  intellectual  achievement,  under-valuation  of 
ourselves  has  become  a  fashion ;  and  the  errors  it  fosters  react 
detrimentally  on  the  estimates  we  make  of  our  social  regime, 
and  on  our  sociological  beliefs  in  general. 

What  is  the  origin  of  this  undue  self-depreciation  ?  In 
some  cases  no  doubt  it  results  from  disgust  at  the  jaunty  self- 
satisfaction  caused  by  the  bias  of  patriotism  when  excessive. 
In  other  cases  it  grows  out  of  affectation :  to  speak  slightingly 
of  what  is  English  seems  to  imply  a  wide  knowledge  of  what 
is  foreign,  and  brings  a  reputation  for  culture.  In  the  remain- 
ing cases  it  is  due  to  ignorance.  Passing  over  such  of  these 
self -depreciatory  estimates  of  our  powers  and  achievements  as 
have  partial  justifications,  I  will  limit  myself  to  one  which 
has  no  justification.  Among  the' classes  here  indicated,  it  is 
the  custom  to  speak  disrespectfully  of  the  part  we  play  in  dis- 
covery and  invention.  There  is  an  assertion  occasionally  to  be 
met  with  in  public  journals,  that  the  French  invent  and  we 
improve.  Not  long  since  it  was  confessed  by  the  Attorney- 
General  that  the  English  are  not  a  scientific  nation.  Recently 
the  Times,  commenting  on  a  speech  in  which  Mr.  Gladstone 
had  been  disparaging  our  nation  and  its  men,  said  : — "  There  is 
truth,  however,  in  the  assertion  that  we  are  backward  in  ap- 
preciating and  pursuing  abstract  knowledge."""  Such  state- 
ments exhibit  the  bias  of  anti-patriotism  creating  a  belief  that  is 
wholly  indefensible.  As  we  shall  pi'esently  see,  they  are  flatly 
contradicted  by  facts  ;  and  they  can  be  accounted  for  only  by 
supposing  that  those  who  make  them  have  had  a  culture  ex- 
clusively literary, 

A  convenient  way  of  dealing  with  this  bias  of  anti-patri- 
otism will  be  to  take  an  individual  example  of  it.  More  than 
any  othei",  Mr.  Matthew  Arnold  has  of  late  made  himself  an 
exponent  of  the  feeling.  His  motive  cannot  be  too  highly 
respected ;  and  for  much  that  he  has  said  in  rebuke  of  the 
vainglorious,  entire  approval  may  rightly  be  felt.  Many 
grave  defects  in  our  social  state,  many  absurdities  in  our 
modes  of  action,  many  errors  in  our  estimates  of  ourselves, 
are  to  be  pointed  out  and  dwelt  upon ;  and  great  good  is  done 
by  a  writer  who  efficiently  executes  the  task  of  making  us  feel 
our  shortcomings.  In  his  condemnation  of  the  ascetic  view 
of  life  which  still  prevails  here,  one  may  entirely  agree.    That 


198  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

undue  valuation  of  material  prosperity  common  witli  us,  is  a 
fault  justly  insisted  on  by  him.  And  the  overweening  confi- 
dence so  often  shown  in  a  divine  favour  gained  by  our  greater 
national  piety,  is  also  an  attitude  of  mind  to  be  reprobated. 
But  by  reaction  Mr.  Arnold  is,  I  think,  carried  too  far  in  the 
direction  of  anti-patriotism ;  and  weakens  the  effect  of  his 
criticism  by  generating  a  re-action.  Let  us  glance  at  some  of 
his  views. 

The  mode  of  procedure  generally  followed  by  Mr.  Arnold, 
is  not  that  of  judicially  balancing  the  evidence,  but  that  of 
meeting  the  expression  of  self-satisfied  patriotism  by  some  few 
facts  calculated  to  cause  dissatisfaction  :  not  considering  what 
is  their  quantitative  value.  To  repi*ove  a  piece  of  national 
self -laudation  vittered  by  Mr.  Roebuclv,  he  comments  on  the 
murder  of  an  illegitimate  child  by  its  mother,  reported  in  tlie 
same  paj)er.  Now  tliis  would  be  effective  if  infanticide  were 
peculiar  to  England,  or  if  he  could  show  a  larger  proportion 
of  infanticide  here  than  elsewhere  ;  but  his  criticism  is  at  once 
cancelled  on  calling  to  mind  the  developed  system  of  baby- 
farming  round  Paris,  and  the  extensive  getting-rid  of  infants 
to  which  it  is  instrumental.  By  following  Mr.  Arnold's  method, 
it  would  be  easy  to  dispose  of  his  conclusions.  Suppose, 

for  instance,  that  I  were  to  set  down  the  many  murders  com- 
mitted in  England  by  foreigners  within  our  own  memoi-ies, 
including  those  by  Courvoisier,  by  Mrs.  Manning,  by  Bartlie- 
lemi  near  Fitzroy  Square,  by  a  Frenchman  in  Foley  Place 
(about  1854-7),  that  by  Miiller,  that  by  Kohl  in  the  Essex 
marshes,  that  by  Lani  in  a  brothel  near  the  Haymai-ket,  that 
by  Marguerite  Diblanc,  the  tragedy  of  the  two  j'oung  Ger- 
mans (Mai  and  Nagel)  at  Chelsea,  ending  with  the  recent  one 
in  Great  Coram  Street — suppose  I  were  to  com])are  the  ratio 
between  this  number  of  murderers  and  the  nmnber  of  for- 
eigners in  England,  with  the  answering  ratio  ;nnong  our  OAvn 
l)('<)j)](' ;  and  suppose  T  wer(>  to  t:ike  this  as  a  test  of  tli(>  C*onli- 
ncntal  culture  Mr.  Arnold  so  mucli  jidniircs.  I*r()l);d)l y  lie 
would  not  think  the  test  quite  relevant ;  and  yet  it  would  be 
(juit)'  as  reh'vant  as  that  he  nses — ])erha])s  somewhat  more 
relevant.  Su|  pose,  again,  that  by   way  of  criticisni  on 

German  administration,  I  were  to  dwell  on  the  catiistropho 


THE  BIAS  OF   PATRIOTISM.  I99 

at  Berlin,  where,  during-  tlie  celebration  of  victory,  fourteen 
sightseers  were  killed  and  some  hundreds  injured ;  or  suppose 
I  were  to  judge  it  by  the  disclosures  of  the  leading  Berlin  phy- 
sician, Virchow,  who  shows  that  one  out  of  every  three  chil- 
dren born  in  Berlin  dies  the  first  year,  and  whose  statistics 
prove  the  general  mortality  to  be  increasing  so  rapidly  that 
while  "in  1854  the  death-rate  was  1000,  in  1851-63  it  rose  to 
1164,  and  in  1864-8  to  1817 "  "—suppose,  I  say,  that  I  took 
these  facts  as  proof  of  failure  in  the  social  system  Mr.  Arnold 
would  have  us  copy.  Possibly  he  would  not  be  much  shaken  ; 
though  it  seems  to  me  that  this  evidence  would  be  more  to  the 
point  than  a  case  of  infanticide  among  ourselves.  Fur- 

ther, suppose  I  were  to  test  French  administration  by  the  sta- 
tistics of  mortality  in  the  Crimea,  as  given  at  the  late  meeting 
of  the  French  Association  for  the  Advanceuaent  of  Science, 
by  M.  Le  Fort,  who  pointed  out  that — 

"  Dans  ces  six  mois  d'hiver  1855-1856,  alors  qu'il  n'y  a  plus  guere 
d'hostilites,  alors  que  les  Anglais  ont  seuleraent  en  six  mois  165 
blesses,  et  les  Fran9ais  323,  I'armee  anglaise,  grace  aux  precautions 
prises,  n'a  que  peu  de  inalades  et  ne  perd  que  606  hommes ;  I'armee 
fran^aise  voit  eclater  au  milieu  d'elle  le  typhus,  qu'on  eut  pu  eviter,  et 
perd  par  les  maladies  seules  21,190  hommes  ; " 

and  who  further,  respecting  the  relative  mortalities  from 
operations,  said  that — 

"En  Crimee,  les  armees  anglaise  et  frangaise  se  trouvent  exposees 
aux  memes  besoins,  aux  mcmes  vicissitudes  atmospheriques,  et  cepen- 
dant  quelle  difFi'ronce  dans  la  mortalite  des  operes.  Les  Anglais  per- 
dent  24  pour  100  de  leurs  amputes  du  bras,  nous  en  perdons  plus  du 
double,  55  sur  100 ;  il  en  est  de  meme  pour  I'araputation  de  la  jambe : 
35  contre  71  pour  100." 

— suppose.  I  say,  that  I  were  thus  to  deal  with  the  notion  that 
"they  manage  these  tilings  bettor  in  France."  Mr.  Arnold 
would,  very  likely,  not  abandon  his  belief.  And  yet  this  con- 
trast would  certainly  be  as  damaging  as  the  fact  about  the 
girl  Wragg,  to  which  he  more  than  once  refers  so  emi)hati- 
cally.  Surely  it  is  manifest  enough  that  by  selecting  the  evi- 
dence, any  society  may  be  relatively  blackened  and  any  other 
society  relatively  whitened. 

From  Mr.  Arnold's  method  let  us  turn  to  some  of  his  spe- 
cific statements ;  taking  first  the  statement  that  the  English 


200  THE   STUDY   OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

are  deficient  in  ideas.  He  says : — "  There  is  the  world  of  ideas, 
and  there  is  the  world  of  practice ;  the  French  are  often  for 
suppressing  the  one,  and  the  English  the  other."  "  Admitting 
the  success  of  the  English  in  action,  Mr.  Arnold  thinks  that  it 
goes  along  with  want  of  faith  in  speculative  conclusions. 
But  by  putting  ideas  and  practice  in  this  antithesis,  he  im- 
plies his  acceptance  of  the  notion  that  effectual  practice  does 
not  depend  on  superiority  of  ideas.  This  is  an  erroneous  no- 
tion. Methods  that  answer  are  preceded  by  thoughts  that  are 
true.  A  successful  enterprise  presupposes  an  imagination  of 
all  the  factors,  and  conditions,  and  results — an  imagination 
which  ditfers  from  one  leading  to  an  unsuccessful  enterprise 
in  this,  that  what  will  happen  is  clearly  and  completely  fore- 
seen, instead  of  being  foreseen  vaguely  and  incompletely: 
there  is  greater  ideality.  Every  scheme  is  an  idea;  every 
scheme  more  or  less  new,  implies  an  idea  more  or  less  orig- 
inal ;  every  scheme  proceeded  with,  implies  an  idea  vivid 
enough  to  prompt  action;  and  every  scheme  which  succeeds, 
implies  an  idea  so  accurate  and  exhaustive  that  the  results 
correspond  with  it.  When  an  English  company  accommo- 
dates Amsterdam  with  water  (an  element  the  Dutch  are  very 
familiar  witli,  and  in  the  management  of  which  they,  cen- 
turies ago,  gave  us  lessons)  must  we  not  say  that  by  leaving 
us  to  supply  their  chief  city  they  show  a  want  of  confidence 
in  results  ideally  seen  ?  Is  it  replied  tliat  the  Dutch  are  not 
an  imaginative  people  ?  Then  take  the  Italians.  How  hap- 
pens it  that  such  a  pressing  need  as  the  draining  of  Naples, 
has  never  suggested  to  Italian  rulers  or  Italian  people  the  tak- 
ing of  measm'es  to  achieve  it ;  and  how  ha])i)ens  it  that  the 
idea  of  draining  Naples,  instead  of  emanating  from  French  or 
Germans,  supposed  by  Mr.  Arnold  to  have  more  faith  in  ideas, 
emanates  from  a  company  of  Englislnnen,  who  are  now  pro- 
])Osing  to  do  tlie  work  without  cost  to  tlic  luunicipality.'*  Or 
\sliat  sluill  we  infer  as  to  relative  faith  in  ideas,  on  h>arning 
that  even  within  tlieir  respective  territories  the  French  and 
Germans  wait  for  us  to  undertake  new  things  for  them  ? 
Wlieii  we  lind  that  Toulouse  and  Bordeaux  w(>i-e  liglited  with 
ga.s  by  an  English  company,  nnist  we  not  infer  lack  of  ideas 
in  the  ])e()))lc  of  those  j)l;iees  ?  When  we  find  that  a  body  of 
Englishmen,  the  lihone   Ilydranlic  Goinpany,  s(>eing  that  at 


THE   BIAS  OF  PATRIOTISM.  201 

Bellcgarde  there  are  rapids  having  a  fall  of  forty  feet,  made  a 
tunnel  carrying  a  fourth  of  the  river,  and  so  got  10,000  horse- 
power, which  they  are  selling  to  manufacturers ;  and  when 
we  ask  why  this  source  of  wealth  was  not  utilized  by  the 
French  themselves ;  must  we  not  say  that  it  was  because  the 
idea  did  not  occur  to  them,  or  because  it  was  not  vivid  and 
definite  enough  to  prompt  the  enterprise  ?  And  when,  on 
going  north,  we  discover  that  not  only  in  Belgium  and  Hol- 
land are  the  chief  towns,  Brussels,  Antwerp,  Lille,  Ghent, 
Rotterdam,  Amsterdam,  Haarlem,  &c.,  lighted  by  our  Con- 
tinental Gas  Association,  but  that  this  combination  of  Eng- 
lishmen lights  many  towns  in  Germany  also — Hanover,  Aix- 
la-Chapelle,  Stolberg,  Cologne,  Frankfort,  Vienna,  nay,  that 
even  the  head-quarters  of  geist,  Berlin  itself,  had  to  wait  for 
light  until  this  Company  supplied  it,  must  we  not  say  that 
more  faith  in  ideas  was  shown  by  English  than  by  Germans  ? 
Germans  have  plent;^  of  energy,  are  not  without  desire  to 
make  money,  and  knew  that  gas  was  used  in  England ;  and 
if  neither  they  nor  their  Governments  undertook  the  work, 
we  must  infer  that  the  benefits  and  means  were  inadequately 
conceived.  English  enterprises  have  often  been  led  by  ideas 
that  looked  wholly  unpractical :  as  when  the  first  English 
steamer  astonished  the  people  of 'Coblentz,  in  1817,  by  making 
its  appearance  there,  so  initiating  the  Rhine  steam-navigation ; 
or  as  when  the  first  English  steamer  started  across  the  Atlan- 
tic. Instead  of  our  practice  being  unideal,  the  ideas  which 
guide  it  sometimes  verge  on  the  romantic.  Fishing  up  a  cable 
from  the  bottom  of  an  ocean  three  miles  deep,  was  an  idea 
seemingly  more  fitted  for  The  Arabian  Nights  than  for  actual 
life ;  and  yet  success  proved  how  truly  those  who  conducted 
the  operation  had  put  together  their  ideas  in  correspondence 
with  the  facts — the  true  test  of  vivid  imagination. 

To  show  the  groundlessness  of  the  notion  that  new  ideas 
are  not  evolved  and  appreciated  as  much  in  England  as  else- 
where, I  am  tempted  here  to  enumerate  our  modern  inven- 
tions of  all  orders ;  from  those  directly  aiming  at  material 
results,  such  as  Trevethick's  first  locomotive,  up  to  the  calculat- 
ing-machines of  Babbage  and  the  logic-machine  of  Jevons, 
quite  remote  from  practice  in  their  objects.  But  mei-eh^  assert- 
ing that  those  who  go  through  the  list  will  find  that  neither 


202  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

in  number  nor  in  importance  do  they  yield  to  those  of  any 
nation  during  the  same  period,  I  refrain  fi'om  details.  Partly 
I  do  this  because  the  space  required  for  specifying  them  would 
be  too  great ;  and  partly  because  inventions,  mostly  having 
immediate  bearings  on  practice,  would  perhaps  not  be  thought 
by  Mr.  Arnold  to  prove  fertility  of  idea  :  though,  considering 
that  each  machine  is  a  theory  before  it  becomes  a  working 
reality,  this  would  be  a  jjosition  difficult  to  defend.  To  avoid 
all  possible  objection,  I  will  limit  myself  to  scientific  dis- 
covery, from  which  the  element  of  practice  is  excluded  ;  and 
to  meet  the  impression  that  scientific  discovery  in  recent  days 
has  not  maintained  its  former  pace,  I  will  name  only  our 
achievements  since  1800. 

Taking  first  the  Abstract  Sciences,  let  us  ask  what  has  been 
done  in  Logic.  We  have  the  brief  but  pregnant  statement  of 
inductive  methods  by  Sir  John  Herschel,  leading  to  the  defi- 
nite systematization  of  them  by  Mr.  Mill ;  and  we  have,  in 
the  work  of  Professor  Bain,  elaborately-illustrated  applica- 
tions of  logical  methods  to  science  and  to  the  business  of  life. 
Deductive  Logic,  too,  has  been  developed  by  a  further  concep- 
tion. The  doctrine  of  the  quantification  of  tlie  predicate,  set 
fortli  in  1827  by  Mr.  George  Bentliam,  and  again  set  forth 
under  a  numerical  form  by  R'ofessor  De  Morgan,  is  a  doctrine 
supplementary  to  that  of  Aristotle ;  and  the  recognition  of  it 
has  made  it  easier  than  before  to  see  that  Deductive  Logic  is 
a  science  of  the  relations  implied  by  the  inclusions,  exclusions, 
and  overlappings  of  classes."  Even  were  this  all,  the  instal- 
ment of  progress  would  be  large  for  a  single  generation.  But 
it  is  by  no  means  all.  In  the  work  by  Professor  Boole,  Inves- 
tigation of  the  Laws  of  Thought,  the  ai)])lication  to  Logic  of 
nu'tlKxls  like  those  of  Matlu'iiiatics,  constitutes  another  stoi> 
far  greater  in  originality  aiul  in  importance  than  any  tak(Mi 
since  Aristotle.  So  tliat,  strangely  enough,  the  assertion 
quoted  above,  that  "  we  are  backward  in  apprecialing  and  ]>ni'- 
suing  aljstract  knowk'dge,"  and  this  complaint  of  Mr.  Arnohl 
tliat  our  lif(^  is  wanting  in  ideas,  come  at  a  time  when  we  have 
lately  done  more  to  advance  the  nuxst  abstract  and  purely- 
ideal  S(•ienc(^  tlian  has  been  done  anywhere  else,  or  during 
a!iy  pa-st  ])eriod  ! 

In  tlie  other  division  of  Abstract  Science— Mathematics,  a 


THE   BIAS  OF   PATRIOTISM.  203 

recent  revival  of  activity  lias  brought  results  sufficiently 
striking.  Though,  during  a  long  period,  tlie  bias  of  patriot- 
ism and  undue  reverence  for  tliat  form  of  the  higher  calculus 
which  Newton  initiated,  greatly  retarded  us ;  yet  since  the  re- 
commencement of  progress,  some  five-and-twenty  years  ago, 
Englishmen  have  again  come  to  the  front.  Sir  W.  R.  Hamil- 
ton's method  of  Quaternions  is  a  new  instrument  of  research  ; 
and  whether  or  not  as  valuable  as  some  think,  undoubtedly 
adds  a  large  region  to  the  world  of  known  mathematical 
truth.  And  then,  more  important  still,  there  are  the  achieve- 
ments of  Cayley  and  Sylvester  in  the  creation  and  develop- 
ment of  the  higher  algebra.  From  competent  and  unbiassed 
judges  I  learn  that  the  Theory  of  Invariants,  and  the  methods 
of  investigation  which  have  gi"Own  out  of  it,  constitute  a  step 
in  mathematical  progress  larger  than  any  made  since  the  Dif- 
ferential Calculus.  Thus,  without  enumerating  the  minor 
achievements  of  others,  there  is  ample  proof  that  abstract 
science,  of  this  order  also,  is  flourishing  among  us  in  great 
vigour. 

Nor,  on  passing  to  the  Abstract-Concrete  Sciences,  do  we 
find  better  ground  for  this  belief  entertained  by  Mr.  Arnold  and 
others.  Though  Huyghens  conceived  of  light  as  constituted 
of  undulations,  yet  he  was  wrong  in  conceiving  the  undula- 
tions as  allied  in  form  to  those  of  sound  ;  and  it  remained  for 
Dr.  Young  to  establish  the  true  theory.  Respecting  the  prin- 
ciple of  interference  of  the  rays  of  light  propounded  by 
Young,  Sir  John  Herschel  says, — "  regarded  as  a  physical  law 
[it]  has  hardly  its  equal  for  beauty,  simplicity,  and  extent  of 
application,  in  the  whole  circle  of  science  ; "  and  of  Young's 
all-important  discovery  that  the  luminiferous  undulations  are 
transverse  not  longitudinal,  he  says  that  it  showed  "  a  sagac- 
ity which  would  have  done  honour  to  Newton  himself."  Just 
naming  the  discovery  of  the  law  of  expansion  of  gases  by 
Dalton,  the  laws  of  radiation  by  Leslie,  the  theory  of  dew  by 
Wells,  the  discrimination  by  Wollaston  of  quantity  and  inten- 
sity in  electricity,  and  the  disclosure  of  electrolysis  by  Nicholson 
and  Carlisle  (all  of  them  cardinal  discoveries)  and  passing 
over  minor  contributions  to  physical  science,  we  come  to  the 
great  contributions  of  Fai^aday — magneto-electricity,  the  quan- 
titative law  of  electrolysis,  the  magnetization  of  light,  and  dia- 


204  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

magnetism :  not  mentioning  others  of  mucli  significance. 
Next  there  is  the  great  truth  which  men  still  living  have 
finally  established — the  correlation  and  equivalence  of  the 
physical  forces.  In  the  establishment  of  this  truth  English- 
men have  had  a  large  share — some  think  the  larger  share. 
Remembering  that  in  England  the  conception  of  heat  as  a 
mode  of  motion  dates  from  Bacon,  by  whom  it  was  expressed 
with  an  insight  that  is  marvellous  considering  the  knowledge 
of  his  time — remembering,  too,  that  "  Locke  stated  a  similar 
view  with  singular  felicity ; "  we  come,  among  Englishmen 
of  the  present  century,  first  to  Davy,  whose  experiments  and 
ai'guments  so  conclusively  sujjported  those  of  Rumford  ;  then 
to  the  view^  of  Roget  and  the  postulate  on  which  Fai'aday 
habitually  reasoned,  that  all  force  arises  only  as  other  force  is 
expended  ;  then  to  the  essay  of  Grove,  in  wliicii  the  origin  of 
the  various  forms  of  foi'ce  out  of  one  another  was  abundantly 
exemplified  ;  and  fijially  to  the  investigations  by  which  Joule 
established  the  quantitative  relations  between  heat  and  mo- 
tion. Without  dwelling  on  the  important  deductions  from 
this  great  truth  made  by  Sir  W.  Thomson,  Rankine,  Tyndall, 
and  others,  I  will  merely  di-aw  attention  to  its  higlily-abstract 
nature  as  again  showing  the  baselessness  of  the  above-quoted 
notion. 

Equally  conclusive  is  the  evidence  when  we  pass  to  Chem- 
istry. The  cardinal  value  of  the  stop  made  by  Dalton  in  1808, 
when  the  a2)cr('u  of  Higgins  was  reduced  by  him  to  a  scien- 
tific form,  will  be  seen  on  glancing  into  Wurtz'  Introduction 
to  Chemical  Philosopinj,  and  observing  how  the  atomic 
tlif'ory  underlies  all  sul)sequ(>iit  chemical  discovery.  Nor,  in 
more  recent  days,  has  the  development  of  this  theory  fallen 
unduly  into  foreign  hands.  Prof.  Williamson,  by  reconciling 
the  theory  of  radicals  with  the  theory  of  types,  and  by  intro- 
diu'ing  (lie  hyi)<)lhesis  of  condensed  molecular  tyjH's,  has  taken 
a  leading  part  in  founding  the  modci-n  views  of  clieniical  com- 
binations. We  come  next  to  tlie  cardinal  conception  of  atom- 
icity. In  IS.')!.  Prof.  Franklatid  initiated  the  classification  of 
the  elements  l)y  tlieir  atomicities:  his  im])ortanl  interpretation 
Ix'ing  now  avowedly  acce])tr<l  in  (Jerninny  by  those  wlio  orig- 
inally (lisi)nt((l  it;  as  by  Kolbc  in  ]us  Mixlcii  drr  ,}f(>(I('i'nen 
Cheniie.     On  turning  from  the  more  general  chemical  truths 


THE   BIAS   OP  PATRIOTlSxM,  205 

to  the  more  special  chemical  truths,  a  like  history  meets  us. 
Davy's  discovery  of  the  metallic  bases  of  the  alkalies  and 
earths,  revolutionized  chemists'  ideas.  Passing-  over  many 
other  achievements  in  special  chemistry,  I  may  single  out  fur 
their  significance,  the  discoveries  of  Andrews,  Tait,  and  espe- 
cially of  Brodie,  respecting  the  constitution  of  ozone  as  an 
allotropic  form  of  oxygen ;  and  may  join  with  these  Brodie's 
discoveries  respecting  the  allotropic  forms  of  carbon,  as  throw- 
ing so  much  light  on  allotropy  at  large.  And  then  we  come 
to  the  all-important  discoveries,  general  and  special,  of  the 
late  Prof.  Graham.  The  truths  he  established  respecting  the 
hydration  of  compounds,  the  ti\inspiration  and  the  diffusion 
of  liquids,  the  transpiration  and  the  dilt'usion  of  gases,  the  dial- 
ysis of  liquids  and  the  dialysis  of  gases,  and  the  occlusion  of 
gases  by  metals,  are  all  of  them  cardinal  truths.  And  even 
of  still  greater  value  is  his  luminous  generalization  respecting 
the  crystalloid  and  colloid  states  of  matter— a  generalization 
which,  besides  throwing  light  on  many  other  phenomena,  has 
given  us  an  insight  into  organic  processes  previously  incom- 
prehensible. These  results,  reached  by  his  beautifully-coher- 
ent series  of  researches  extending  over  forty  years,  constitute 
a  new  revelation  of  tlie  properties  of  matter. 

Neither  is  it  true  that  in  advancing  the  Concrete  Sciences 
we  have  failed  to  do  our  share.  Take  the  first  in  order — As- 
tronomy. Though,  for  the  long  period  during  which  our 
mathematicians  were  behind.  Planetary  Astronomy  progressed 
but  little  in  England,  and  the  development  of  the  Newtonian 
theory  was  left  chiefly  to  other  nations,  yet  of  late  there  has 
been  no  want  of  activity.  When  I  have  named  the  inverse  prob- 
lem of  perturbations  and  the  discovery  of  Neptune,  the  honovir 
of  which  we  share  with  the  French,  I  have  called  to  mind  an 
achievement  sufficiently  remarkable.  To  Sidereal  Astronomy 
we  have  made  great  contributions.  Though  the  concei)tion 
of  Wright,  of  Durham,  respecting  stellar  distribution  was  here 
so  little  attended  to  that  when  afterwards  enunciated  by  Kant 
(who  kiiew  Wright's  views)  and  by  Sir  W.  Hci'schel,  it  was 
credited  to  them ;  yet  since  Sir  W.  Herschel's  time  the  re- 
searches in  Sidereal  Astronomy  by  Sir  John  Herschel  and 
others,  liave  done  nuich  to  furtlier  tliis  division  of  the  science. 
Quite  recently  the  discoveries  made  by  Mr.  Huggins  respect- 


206  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

ing  the  velocities  with  which  certain  stars  are  approaching  us 
and  others  receding,  have  opened  a  new  fiekl  of  inquiry  ;  and 
tlie  ijiferences  reached  by  Mr.  Proctor  respecting  groupings  of 
stars  and  the  "  drifting  "  of  star-groups,  now  found  to  harmo- 
nize with  the  results  otherwise  reached  by  Mr.  Huggins,  go 
far  to  help  us  in  conceiving  the  constitution  of  our  galaxy. 
Nor  must  we  forget  how  much  has  been  done  towards  explain- 
ing the  physical  constitutions  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  as  well 
as  their  motions :  the  natures  of  nebuhc,  and  the  processes  going 
on  in  Sun  and  stars,  have  been  greatly  elucidated  by  Huggins, 
Lockyer,  and  others. 

In  Geology,  the  progi'ess  made  here,  and  especially  the 
progress  in  geological  theory,  is  certainly  not  less — good  judges 
say  much  greater — than  has  been  made  elsew'here.  Just 
noting  that  English  Geology  goes  back  to  Ray,  whose  notions 
were  far  more  philosophical  than  those  set  forth  long  after- 
waa'ds  by  Werner,  we  come  to  Hutton,  witli  w^hom  in  fact  ra- 
tional Geology  commences.  For  the  untenable  Neptunist  hy- 
pothesis, asserting  a  once-universal  aqueous  action  unlike  the 
present,  Hutton  substituted  an  aqueous  action,  marine  and 
Huviatile,  continuously  operating  as  we  now  see  it,  antago- 
nized by  a  periodic  igneous  action.  He  recognized  denudation 
as  producing  mountains  and  valleys ;  he  denied  so-called 
primitive  rocks;  he  asserted  metamorphism  ;  he  taught  the 
meaning  of  unconformitj^  Since  his  daj'  rapid  advances  in 
the  same  direction  had  been  made.  William  Smith,  by  estab- 
lishing the  order  of  superposition  of  strata  throughout  Eng- 
land, i)r('pared  the  way  for  positive  generalization ;  and  by 
sliowing  that  contained  fossils  are  safer  tests  of  correspondence 
among  strata  than  mineral  cliaractei's,  laid  tlie  basis  for  subse- 
quent classifications.  The  better  data  thus  obtained,  theory 
quickly  turned  to  account.  In  his  Pi'inciple.s  of  Geohuj}/, 
Lyell  elaborately  Avorked  out  the  uniforiiiitarian  doctrine — the 
doctrine  that  the  Earth's  crust  lias  been  brought  to  its  present 
complex  structure  by  the  continuous  operation  of  forces  like 
those  we  see  still  at  work.  More  recently,  Prof.  Ramsay's 
theory  of  lakc-foniialion  by  glaciers  has  helped  in  the  inter- 
pretati<jn  ;  and  by  him,  as  well  as  by  Prof.  Huxley,  nmch  has 
been  done  towards  elucidating  past  distributions  of  continents 
and  oceans.     I^et  iiu;  n.iine,  too,  Mallet's  Theory  of  Earth- 


THE  BIAS  OP  PATllIOTISM.  20Y 

quakes— the  only  scientific  explanation  of  them  yet  given. 
And  there  must  be  added  another  fact  of  moment.  Criticism 
has  done  far  more  here  than  abroad,  towards  overthrowing  the 
crude  hypothesis  of  universal  "  systems  "  of  strata,  which  suc- 
ceeded the  still  cruder  hypothesis  of  universal  strata,  enun- 
ciated by  Werner. 

That  our  contributions  to  Biological  science  have  in  these 
later  times  not  been  unimportant,  may,  I  think,  be  also  main- 
tained. Just  noting  that  the  "  natural  system "  of  Plant- 
classification,  though  French  by  development  is  English  by 
origin,  since  Ray  made  its  first  great  division  and  sketched 
out  some  of  its  sub-divisions ;  we  come,  among  English  botan- 
ists, to  Brown.  He  made  a  series  of  investigations  in  the  mor- 
phology, classification,  and  distribution  of  plants,  which  in 
number  and  importance  have  never  been  equalled :  the  Pro- 
dromus  Florce  Novce-HoUandioe  is  the  greatest  achievement 
in  classification  since  Jussieu's  Natural  Orders.  Brown,  too, 
it  was  who  solved  the  mystery  of  plant-fertilization.  Again, 
there  is  the  conception  that  existing  plant-distribution  has 
been  determined  by  past  geological  and  physical  changes — a 
conception  we  owe  to  Dr.  Hooker,  who  has  given  us  sundry 
wide  interpretations  in  jiursuance  of  it.  In  Animal-physiology 
there  is  Sir  Charles  Bell's  discovery  respecting  the  sensory 
and  motor  functions  of  the  nerve-roots  in  the  spinal  cord ;  and 
this  underlies  multitudinous  interpretations  of  organic  phe- 
nomena. More  I'ecently  we  have  had  Mr.  Darwin's  great  addi- 
tion to  biological  science.  Following  in  the  steps  of  his 
grandfather,  who  had  anticipated  Lamarck  in  enunciating  the 
general  conception  of  the  genesis  of  organic  forms  by  adap- 
tive modifications,  but  had  not  worked  out  the  conception  as 
Lamarck  did,  Mr.  Darwin,  perceiving  that  both  of  them  were 
mistaken  in  attributing  the  modifications  to  causes  which, 
though  some  of  them  true,  were  inadequate  to  account  for  all  the 
effects,  succeeded,  by  recognizing  the  further  cause  he  called 
Natural  Selection,  in  raising  the  hypothesis  from  a  form  but 
partially  tenable  to  a  quite  tenable  form.  This  view  of  his, 
so  admirably  worked  out,  has  been  adopted  by  the  great  ma- 
jority of  naturalists ;  and,  by  making  the  process  of  organic 
evolution  moreconi])rehensible,  it  is  revolutionizing  biological 
conceptions  throughout  the  world.  In  the  words  of  Professor 
15 


208  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

Cohn,  "  no  book  of  recent  times  has  influenced  the  concep- 
tions of  modern  science  like  tlie  first  edition  of  Charles  Dar- 
win's Origin  of  Species."  ^^  Nor  should  we  overlook  the  vari- 
ous kindred  minor  discoveries,  partly  dependent,  partly  in- 
dependent :  Mr.  Darwin's  own  respecting  the  dimorphism  of 
flowers ;  Mr.  Bates's  beautiful  interpretation  of  mimicry  in  in- 
sects, which  led  the  way  to  many  allied  interpretations  ;  Mr. 
Wallace's  explanations  of  dimorphism  and  polymorphism  in 
Lepidoptera.  Finally,  Professor  Huxley,  besides  dissipat- 
ing some  serious  biological  errors  of  continental  origin,  has 
made  important  contributions  to  morphology  and  classifica- 
tion. 

Nor  does  the  balance  turn  against  us  on  passing  to  the  next- 
highest  concrete  science.  After  those  earlier  inquii'ies  by 
which  Englishmen  so  largely  advanced  the  Science  of  Mind, 
and  set  up  much  of  the  speculation  subsequently  active  in 
France  and  Germany,  there  came  a  lull  in  Englisli  thinking ; 
and  during  this  ai'ose  the  absurd  notion  that  the  English  are 
not  a  philosophical  people.  Bvit  the  lull,  ending  some  forty 
years  ago,  gave  place  to  an  activity  which  has  quickly  made 
up  for  lost  time.  On  this  point  I  need  not  rest  in  assertion, 
but  will  quote  foreign  testimony.  The  first  chapter  of  Prof. 
Eibot's  work.  La  Psychologie  Anglaise  Contemporaine  be- 
gins thus : — 

"'  Le  sceptro  de  la  psychologie,  dit  M.  Stuart  Mill,  est  decidement 
revenu  h  rAnglcterre.'  On  poiirrait  soutenir  qu'il  n'en  est  jamais 
sorti.  Sans  doutc,  les  etudes  psychologiques  y  sent  inaintenant  cul- 
tivL'os  par  dcs  hommos  dc  premier  ordre  qui,  par  la  solidite  de  lein* 
mt'lhode,  et  ce  qui  est  plus  rare,  par  la  precision  de  leurs  resullats,  out 
fait  entrer  la  science  dans  uno  periode  nouvelle ;  mais  c'est  plutot  un 
redoublement  qu'un  renouvellement  d'eclat." 

Similarly,  on  tm-ning  to  Ethics  considered  und(>r  its  ])s3'cho- 
logical  as])cct,  we  find  foreign  testimony  that  English  thinkers 
hav  done  most  towards  the  elal)<)rati()n  of  a  scientific  system. 
Til  the  i)r(>fac(>  to  his  late  work,  La  Morale  nella  Filosofia 
Posifiva  (meaning  by  '"  Posit iva''^  simply  scientific),  Prof, 
r.arzollotti,  of  Florence,  states  tliat  for  this  re;iso7i  lie  limits 
Iiimsclf  to  an  account  of  Eugli.sh  speculation  in  this  depart- 
ment." 

Aim!  IIkii,  if,  instead  (»f  Psychology  and  Ethics,  Philosophy 


THE   BIAS  OF  PATRIOTISM.  209 

at  large  comes  in  question,  there  is  independent  testimony  of 
kindred  nature  to  be  cited.  Tims,  in  the  first  number  of  La 
Critique  PhilosojMque  (8  Fevrier,  1872),  published  under 
the  direction  of  M.  Renouvier,  the  acting  editor,  M.  Pillon, 
wi'ites  : — 

'•  On  travaille  beaucoup  dans  le  champ  des  idees  en  Angleterre.  .  . 
Non-seulement  I'Angleterre  surpasse  la  Prance  par  I'ardeur  et  le  tra- 
vail, ce  qui  est  malheureusement  bien  peu  dire,  et  par  I'interet  des  in- 
vestigations et  des  dcbats  de  ses  penseurs,  luais  meme  elle  laisse  loin 
derriere  elle  TAllemagne  en  ce  dernier  point." 

And  still  more  recently  M.  Martins,  in  the  leading  French 
periodical,  has  been  referring  to — 

"  les  nouvelles  idees  nees  dans  la  libre  Angleterre  et  appelees  a 
transformer  un  jour  les  sciences  naturelles."  '^ 

So  that  while  Mr.  Arnold  is  lamenting  the  want  of  ideas  in 
England,  it  is  discovered  abroad  that  the  genesis  of  ideas  in 
England  is  very  active.  While  he  thinks  our  conceptions  are 
common j)lace,  our  neighbours  find  them  new,  to  the  extent  of 
being  revolutionary.  Oddly  enough,  at  the  very  time  when 
he  is  reproaching  his  countrymen  with  lack  of  geist  French- 
men are  asserting  that  there  is  more  geist  here  than  anywhere 
else  !  Nor  is  there  wanting  testimony  of  kindred  nature  from 
other  nations.  In  the  lecture  above  cited.  Dr.  Cohn,  while 
claiming  for  Germany  a  superiority  in  the  number  of  her 
earnest  workers,  says  that  "England  especially  has  always 
been,  and  is  particularly  now,  rich  in  men  whose  scientific 
works  are  remarkable  for  their  astonishing  laboriousness, 
clearness,  profundity,  and  independence  of  thought" — a 
further  recognition  of  the  truth  that  instead  of  merely  plod- 
ding along  the  old  ruts,  the  English  strike  out  new  tracks :  are 
unusually  imaginative. 

In  his  essay  on  the  "  Functions  of  Criticism  at  the  Present 
Time,"  Mr.  Arnold  insists  that  the  thing  most  needful  for  us 
tiow,  in  all  branches  of  knowledge,  is  "  to  see  the  object  as  in 
itself  it  really  is";  and  in  Friendship's  Garland,  his  alter 
ego,  Arminius,  exhorts  our  Philistinism  "  to  search  and  not 
rest  till  it  sees  things  more  as  they  really  are."  Above,  I  have 
done  that  which  Mr.  Arnold  urges ;  not  by  picking-u^j  stray 
facts,  but  by  a  systematic  examination.  Feeling  sure  that  Mr. 
Arnold  has  himself  taken  the  course  he  advises,  and  is  there- 


x' 


210  THE   STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

fore  familiar  with  all  this  evidence,  as  well  as  with  the  large 
quantity  which  might  be  added,  I  am  somewhat  puzzled  on 
finding-  him  draw  from  it  a  conclusion  so  different  from  that 
which  presents  itself  to  me.  Were  any  one,  j)roceeding  on  the 
foregoing  data,  to  assert  that  since  the  beginning  of  this  cen- 
tuiy,  more  has  been  done  in  England  to  advance  scientific 
knowledge  than  has  ever  been  done  in  a  like  interval,  at  any 
time,  in  any  country,  I  should  think  his  inference  less  wide 
of  the  truth  than  that  which,  strange  to  say,  Mr.  Arnold  draws 
from  the  same  data. 

And  now  to  consider  that  which  more  immediately  con- 
cerns us — the  effect  produced  by  the  bias  of  anti-patriotism  on 
sociological  speculation.  Whether  in  Mr.  Arnold,  whom  I 
have  ventui'ed  to  take  as  a  type,  the  leaning  towards  national 
self-depreciation  was  primary  and  the  over-valuing  of  foreign 
institutions  secondary,  or  wliether  liis  admiration  of  foreign 
institutions  was  the  cause  and  his  tendency  to  depreciatory 
estimates  of  our  social  state  the  effect,  is  a  question  which 
may  be  left  open.  For  pi'esent  purposes  it  suffices  to  observe 
that  the  two  go  together.  Mr.  Arnold  is  impatient  witli  the 
unregulated  and,  as  lie  thinks,  anarcliic  state  of  our  society ; 
and  everywliei'e  displays  a  longing  for  moi'e  administrative 
and  controlling  agencies.  "  Force  till  right  is  ready,"  is  one 
of  the  sayings  he  emphatically  repeats  :  apparently  in  the  be- 
lief tliat  there  can  be  a  sudden  transition  from  a  coeivive  sys- 
tem to  a  non-coercive  one — ignoring  the  truth  that  there  has 
to  be  a  continually-changing  compromi.se  between  force  and 
riglit,  during  which  foi*ce  decreases  step  by  step  as  right  in- 
creases step  by  step,  and  during  Avliich  every  st(>p  bi-ings  some 
temjiorary  evil  along  with  its  ultimate  good.  Thinking  more 
force  needful  for  us,  and  lauding  institutions  which  exercise 
it,  Mr.  Arnold  holds  that  even  in  our  literature  we  should 
benefit  by  being  under  authoritative  directicm.  Though  he 
is  not  of  opinicm  that  an  Acatlemy  would  succeed  here,  he 
casts  longing  glances  at  the  I'rench  Academy,  and  wishes  we 
could  have  had  over  us  an  infiuence  like  that  to  which  he 
a-scribes  ct^rtain  excellencies  in  French  litcr.ilurc. 

Tlie  French  .Academy  w;is  (>stMl)lish('(l,  as  li(>  ))oints  out, 
"  to  work  witli  all   the  airv.  and  all   the  diligence  possible  at 


THE  BIAS  OF   PATRIOTISM.  211 

{giving  sure  rules  to  our  [the  French]  language,  and  rendering 
it  pure,  eloquent,  and  capable  of  treating  the  arts  and  sci- 
ences." Let  us  consider  whether  it  has  fulfilled  this  in- 
tention, by  removing  the  most  conspicuous  defects  of  the  lan- 
guage. Down  to  the  present  time,  there  is  in  daily  use 
the  expression  qu'est  ce  que  c'est  f  and  even  qu'est  ce  que 
c'est  que  cela  f  If  in  some  remote  corner  of  England  is  heard 
the  analogous  expression, — "  what  is  that  there  here  ? "  it  is 
held  to  imply  entire  absence  of  culture  :  the  use  of  two  super- 
fluous words  proves  a  want  of  that  close  adjustment  of  lan- 
guage to  thought  which  even  partially-educated  persons 
among  us  have  reached.  How  is  it.  then,  that  though  in  this 
French  phrase  there  are  five  superfluous  words  (or  six,  if  we 
take  cela  as  two),  the  purifying  criticism  of  the  French 
Academy  has  not  removed  it  from  French  speech — not  even 
from  the  speech  of  the  educated  ?  Or  why,  again,  has 
the  Academy  not  condemned,  forbidden,  and  so  expelled  from 
the  language,  the  double  negative  ?  If  among  ourselves  any 
one  lets  drop  the  sentence,  "I  didn't  say  nothing,"  the  in- 
evitable inference  is  that  he  has  lived  with  the  ill-taught ; 
and,  further,  that  in  his  mind  words  and  ideas  answer  to  one 
another  very  loosely.  Though  in  French  the  second  negative 
is  by  derivation  positive,  yet  in  acquiring  a  negative  mean- 
ing it  became  alike  superfluous  and  illogical ;  and  its  use 
should  then  have  been  interdicted,  instead  of  being  en- 
forced. Once  more,  why  has  not  the  French  Academy 
systematized  the  genders  ?  No  one  who  considers  language 
as  an  instrument  of  thought,  which  is  good  in  proportion  as 
its  special  parts  are  definitely  adjusted  to  special  functions, 
can  doubt  that  a  meaningless  use  of  genders  is  a  defect.  It  is 
undeniable  that  to  employ  marks  of  gender  in  ways  always 
suggesting  attributes  that  are  possessed,  instead  of  usually 
suggesting  attributes  that  are  not  possessed,  is  an  improvement. 
Having  an  example  of  this  improvement  before  them,  why 
did  not  the  Academy  introduce  it  into  French  ?  And 
then — more  significant  question  still — how,  without  the  aid  of 
any  Academy,  came  the  genders  to  be  systematized  in  Eng- 
lish ?  Mr.  Arnold,  and  those  who.  in  common  with  him,  seem 
to  believe  only  in  agencies  that  have  visible  organizations, 
might,  pei-haps,  in  seeking  the  answer  to  this  question,  lose 


212  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

faith  in  artificial  aiDpliances  and  gain  faith  in  natural  pro- 
cesses. For  as,  on  asking  the  origin  of  language  in  general, 
we  are  reminded  that  all  its  complex,  marvellously-adjusted 
parts  and  arrangements  have  been  evolved  without  the  aid  or 
oversight  of  any  embodied  power,  Academic  or  other ;  so,  on 
asking  the  origin  of  this  particular  improvement  in  language, 
we  find  that  it,  too,  arose  naturally.  Nay,  more,  it  was  made 
possible  by  one  of  those  anarchic  states  which  Mr.  Arnold  so 
much  dislikes.  Out  of  the  conflict  of  Old-English  dialects, 
sufficiently  allied  to  co-operate  but  sufficiently  different  to 
have  contradictory  marks  of  gender,  there  came  a  disuse  of 
meaningless  genders  and  a  survival  of  the  genders  having 
meaning— a  change  which  an  Academy,  had  one  existed  here 
in  those  days,  would  doubtless  have  done  its  best  to  prevent ; 
seeing  tlaat  during  the  transition  there  must  have  been  a  dis- 
regard of  rules  and  apparent  corruption  of  speech,  out  of 
which  no  benefit  could  have  been  anticipated. 

Another  fact  respecting  the  French  Academy  is  by  no 
means  congruous  with  Mr.  Arnold's  conception  of  its  value. 
The  compiling  of  an  authoritative  dictionary  was  a  fit  under- 
taking for  it.  Just  recalling  the  well-known  conti^ast  between 
its  dilatory  execution  of  this  undertaking,  and  the  active  exe- 
cution of  a  kindred  one  by  Dr.  Johnson,  we  have  more  espe- 
cially to  note  the  recent  like  contrast  between  the  perform- 
ances of  the  Academy  and  the  performances  of  M.  Littre. 
The  Academy  has  long  had  in  hand  two  dictionaries — the  one 
a  second  edition  of  its  original  dictionary,  the  other  an  his- 
torical dictionar3^  The  first  is  at  letter  D ;  and  the  initial 
number  of  the  other,  containing  A — B,  issued  fifteen  years 
ago,  has  not  yet  had  a  successor.  Meanwhile,  M.  Littre, 
singlc-liandod,  has  completed  a  dictionary  which,  besides 
doing  all  that  the  two  Academy-dictionaries  propose  to  do, 
does  much  more.  Witli  which  marvellous  contrast  we  have 
to  join  the  startling  fact,  that  M.  Littre  was  n^fusod  admission 
to  the  Acad(Miiy  in  ISli.'J,  and  at  length  admitted  in  1871  only 
after  violent  opposition. 

Even  if  we  pass  over  these  duties  whicli,  in  ])ur.suance  of 
its  original  puiiK)S(!,  tlie  Froiicli  Academy  miglit  have  been 
expected  to  perform,  and  limit  ourselves  to  the  duty  Mr.  Ar- 
nold especially  dwells  upon — the  duty  of  kcei)ing  "the  line 


THE  BIAS  OP  PATRIOTISM.  213 

quality  of  the  French  spirit  unimpaired,"  and  exercising  "the 
authority  of  a  recognised  master  in  matters  of  tone  and  taste  " 
(to  quote  his  approving  paraphrase  of  M.  Kenan's  definition) — 
it  may  still,  I  think,  be  doubted  whether  there  have  been 
achieved  by  it  the  benefits  Mr.  Arnold  alleges,  and  whether 
there  have  not  been  caused  great  evils.  That  its  selection  of 
members  has  tended  to  encourage  bad  literature  instead  of 
good,  seems  not  improbable  when  we  are  reminded  of  its  past 
acts,  as  we  are  in  the  well-known  letter  of  Paul-Louis  Courier, 
in  which  there  occurs  this,  among  other  passages  similarly 
damaging : — 

"  Un  due  et  pair  honore  rAcademie  frangaise,  qui  ne  veut  point  de 
Boileau,  refuse  la  Bruyere  ....  mais  revolt  tout  d'abord  Cliape- 
lain  et  Conrart.  De  nieme  nous  voyons  a  rAcademie  grecque  le 
vicomte  invite,  Corai  repousse,  lorsque  Jomard  y  entre  comme  dans 
un  moulin."  '* 

Nor  have  its  verdicts  upon  great  works  been  such  as  to  en- 
courage confidence :  instance  the  fact  that  it  condemned  the 
Cid  of  Corneille,  now  one  of  the  glories  of  French  literature. 
Its  critical  doctrines,  too,  have  not  been  beyond  question. 
Upholding  those  canons  of  dramatic  art  which  so  long  ex- 
cluded the  romantic  drama,  and  maintained  the  feeling  shown 
by  calling  Shakspeare  an  "  intoxicated  barbarian,"  may  pos- 
sibly have  been  more  detrimental  than  beneficial.  And  when 
we  look,  not  at  such  select  samples  of  French  literary  taste  as 
Mr.  Arnold  quotes,  but  at  samples  from  the  other  extreme,  we 
may  question  whether  the  total  effect  has  been  great.  If,  as 
Mr.  Arnold  thinks,  France  "  is  the  country  in  Europe  where 
the  people  is  most  alive,"  it  clearly  is  not  alive  to  the  teach- 
ings of  the  Academy  :  witness  the  recent  revival  of  the  Pere 
DucJiene ;  the  contents  of  which  are  no  less  remarkable  for 
their  astounding  obscenity  then  for  their  utter  stupidity.  Nay, 
when  we  look  only  where  we  are  told  to  look — only  where  the 
Academy  exercises  its  critical  function  on  modern  literature, 
we  find  reason  for  scepticism.  Instance  the  late  award  of  the 
Halphen  Prize  to  the  author  of  a  series  of  poems  called 
L'' Invasion,  of  which  M.  Patin,  a  most  favourable  critic, 
says : — 

"  Their  chief  characteristic  is  a  warmth  of  sentiment  and  a  'wri'e,' 
which  one  would  wish  to  see  under  more  restraint,  but  against  which 


214  THE  STUDY   OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

one  hesitates  to  set  up,  however  just  might  be  their  application  under 
other  circumstances,  the  cold  requirements  of  taste." 
Thus  we  have  the  Academy  pandering  to  the  popular  feeling-. 
The  ebullitions  of  a  patriotic  sentiment  which  it  is  the  misfor- 
tune of  France  to  possess  in  too  great  a  degree,  are  not  checked 
by  the  Academy  but  encouraged  by  it :  even  at  the  expense  of 
good  taste. 

And  then,  lastly,  observe  that  some  of  the  most  cultivated 
Frenchmen,  not  so  well  satisfied  with  institutions  of  the 
Academy-type  as  Mr.  Arnold  seems  to  be,  have  recently  estab- 
lished, on  an  English  model,  a  French  Association  for  the 
Advancement  of  Science.  Here  are  passages  from  their  pros- 
pectus, published  in  La  Revue  Scientifique,  20  Janvier,  1872 ; 
comraencmg  with  an  account  of  the  founding  of  the  Royal 
Institution : — 

"II  y  avait  cinquantc-huit  merabres  presents  a  cette  reunion. 
Chacun  d'eux  souscrivit,  sans  plus  attendre,  une  action  do  cinquante 
guinees ;  c'est  a  peu  pres  treize  cents  francs  de  notre  monnaie,  qui  en 
vaudraient  aujourd'hui  bien  pres  de  deux  mille  cinque.  Le  lende- 
main,  la  Societe  [Institution^^  roijale  de  Londres  etait  constituee. 

"  On  salt  depuis  ce  qu'cUe  est  devenue. 

"  Ce  qu'ont  fait  les  Anglais  en  1799,  d'illustres  savants  de  notre 
pays  veulent  le  renouveler  aujourd'hui  pour  la  France. 

"  Eux  aussi,  ils  ont  ju^c,  eomme  Rumfort  au  siecle  dernier,  que  la 
vieille  supreraatie  du  nom  fran(;ais  dans  tous  les  ordres  de  sciences 
commenQait  a  etre  serieusement  ebranlee,  et  risquait  de  s'ecrouler  un 

jour. 

"  A  Dieu  ne  plaise  qu'ils  accusent  I'Academie  de  cette  decadence  1 
ils  en  font  presque  tous  parlie  eux-memcs.  Mais  I'Academie,  qui  a 
conserve  en  Europe  le  prestige  de  son  nom,  s'enferme  un  peu  plus 
dans  la  majeste  de  sa  grandeur.  Ellc  ne  possede  ni  des  moyens  d'ac- 
tion  assoz  puissants,  ni  une  eiiergie  asscz  active  pour  les  mettre  en 
ccuvre.  Le  ncrf  de  la  guorre,  I'argent,  lui  manque,  et  plus  encore 
peut-ctre  I'initiative  intclligonte  et  hardie.  Elle  s'est  cndormie  dans 
le  respect  de  ses  traditions  seculaires." 

A  furtlu'r  tostiiuony  from  a  foroignor  to  the  value  of  our 
methods  of  aiding  intellectual  progress,  in  comparison  witli 
continental  metliod.s,  has  been  .still  more  recently  given  by 
M.  Alphonse  de  Candolle,  in  his  llislaire  des  Sciences  et  des 
Sava)its.     Ili.s  fear  for  us  is  that  we  may  adopt  the  conliiKMilal 


THE  BIAS  OP   PATRIOTISM.  215 

polic;/  and  abandon  our  own.  Respecting  Science  in  England, 
he  says : — 

"  Je  ne  vols  qu'un  seul  indice  de  faiblesse  pour  I'avenir,  c'est  une 
disposition  croissante  des  homines  de  science  a  solliciter  I'appui  du 
gouverneracnt.  On  dirait  qu'ils  nc  se  fient  {)liis  aux  forces  individu- 
elles,  dont  le  resultat  pourtant  a  ete  si  admirable  dans  leur  pays."  " 

Thus,  curiously  enough,  we  find  another  contrast  parallel 
to  that  noted  already.  As  with  English  ideas  so  with  English 
systems— while  depreciated  at  home  they  are  eulogized  abroad. 
While  Mr.  Arnold  is  lauding  French  institutions,  Frenchmen, 
recognizing  their  shortcomings,  are  adopting  English  institu- 
tions. From  which  we  may  fairly  infer  that,  great  as  is  Mr. 
Arnold's  desire  "  to  see  the  object  as  in  itself  it  really  is,"  he 
has  not  in  this  case  succeeded ;  and  that,  endeavouring  to  es- 
cape the  bias  of  patriotism,  he  has  been  carried  too  far  the 
other  way  by  the  bias  of  anti-patriotism.^" 

One  more  illustration  of  the  effect  this  bias  has  on  Mr. 
Arnold  calls  for  brief  comment.  Along  with  his  over-valua- 
tion of  foreign  regulative  institutions,  there  goes  an  under- 
valuation of  institutions  at  home  which  do  not  exhibit  the 
kind  of  regulation  he  thinks  desirable,  and  stand  in  the  way 
of  authoritative  control.  I  refer  to  those  numerous  Dissent- 
ing organizations  characterizing  this  "  anarchy "  of  ours, 
which  Mr.  Arnold  curiously  makes  the  antithesis  to  "  culture." 

Mr.  Arnold  thinks  that  as  a  nation  we  show  undue  faith  in 
machinery. 

"  Faith  in  machinery  is,  I  said,  our  besetting  danger What 

is  freedom  but  machinery?  what  is  population  but  machinery?  what 
is  coal  but  machinery?  what  are  railroads  but  machinery?  what  is 
wealth  but  machinery?  what  are  religious  organizations  but  ma- 
chinery?"" 

And  in  pursuance  of  this  conception  he  regards  the  desire 
to  get  Church-rates  abolished  and  certain  restrictions  on  mar- 
riage removed,  as  proving  undue  belief  in  machinery  among 
Dissenters  •,  while  his  o\\ai  disbelief  in  machinery  he  considers 
proved  by  wishing  for  stronger  governmental  restraints,'"'  by 
lauding  the  supervision  of  an  Academy,  and  by  upholding  a 
Church-establishment.  I  mvxst  leave  unconsidered  the  ques- 
tion whether  an  Academy,  if  we  had  one,  would  authorize  this 


216  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

use  of  langnage  ;  which  makes  it  seem  that  voluntary  religious 
agency  is  machinery  and  tliat  compulsory  religious  agency  is 
not  machinery.  I  must  pass  over,  too,  Mr.  Arnold's  compari- 
son of  Ecclesiasticism  and  Nonconformity  in  respect  of  the 
men  they  have  produced.  Nor  have  I  space  to  examine  what 
he  says  about  the  mental  attitudes  of  the  two.  It  must  suffice 
to  say  that  were  the  occasion  fit,  it  might  be  shown  that  his 
endeavoiu"  "  to  see  the  object  as  in  itself  it  really  is,"  has  not 
succeeded  much  better  in  this  case  than  in  the  cases  above 
dealt  with.     Here  I  must  limit  myself  to  a  single  criticism. 

The  trait  which  in  Mr.  Arnold's  view  of  Nonconformity 
seems  to  be  most  remarkable,  is  that  in  breadth  it  so  little 
transcends  the  view  of  the  Nonconformists  themselves.  The 
two  views  greatly  differ  in  one  respect — antipathy  replaces 
sympathy ;  but  the  two  views  are  not  widely  unlike  in  exten- 
sion. Avoiding  that  provincialism  of  thought  which  he  says 
characterizes  Dissenters,  I  should  have  expected  Mr.  Arnold 
to  estimate  Dissent,  not  under  its  local  and  temporary  aspect, 
but  under  its  general  aspect  as  a  factor  in  all  societies  at  all 
times.  Though  the  Nonconformists  themselves  think  of  Non- 
conformity as  a  phase  of  Protestantism  in  England,  Mr. 
Arnold's  studies  of  other  nations,  other  ages,  and  other  creeds, 
would,  I  should  have  thought,  have  led  him  to  regard  Non- 
conformity as  a  universal  power  in  societies,  which  has  in  our 
time  and  country  its  particular  embodiment,  but  which  is  to 
be  understood  only  when  contemplated  in  all  its  other  em- 
bodiments. The  thing  is  one  in  spirit  and  tendency,  whether 
shown  among  the  Jews  or  the  Greeks — whether  in  Catholic 
Europe  or  in  Protestant  England.  Wherever  there  is  disa- 
greement with  a  current  belief,  no  matter  what  its  nature, 
there  is  Nonconformity.  The  oi)en  exj^rossion  of  dilference 
and  avowed  op|)()siti()n  to  that  wliich  is  aufboritatively  estab- 
lislied,  constitutes  Dis.sent,  wlu'tlicr  llic  religion  be  P.agan  or 
C'lu'istian,  Monothei.stic  or  I'olytheistic.  The  relative  atti- 
tudes of  tlic  dissenter  and  of  tliose  in  power,  are  essrntially 
the  same  in  all  <'a,ses ;  and  in  all  cases  lead  to  ])ersecuti()n  and 
vitujK'ration.  Tlie  Greeks  who  poisoned  Socrates  were  moved 
by  just  the  same  scMitinicnt  as  tlic  Catliolics  who  burnt  Cran- 
nier,  or  as  tlio  Prof«'stant  ('burciiiiicn  wlio  imprisoned  Bunyan 
and  pelted  Wesley.     And  while  the  manifestations  of  feeling 


TOE   BIAS  OP   PATRIOTISM.  217 

are  essentially  the  same,  while  the  accompanying  evils  are  es- 
sentially the  same,  the  resulting  benefits  are  essentially  the 
same.  Is  it  not  a  truism  tliat  without  divergence  from  that 
which  exists,  whether  it  be  in  politics,  religion,  manners,  or 
anything  else,  there  can  be  no  progress  ?  And  is  it  not  an 
obvious  corollary  that  the  temporary  ills  accompanying  the 
divergence,  are  out-balanced  by  the  eventual  good  ?  It  is  cer- 
tain, as  Mr.  Arnold  holds,  that  subordination  is  essential ;  but 
it  is  also  certain  that  insubordination  is  essential — essential,  if 
there  is  to  be  any  improvement.  There  are  two  extremes  in 
the  state  of  a  social  aggregate,  as  of  every  other  aggregate, 
which  are  fatal  to  evolution — rigidity  and  incoherence.  A 
medium  plasticity  is  the  healthful  condition.  On  the  one 
hand,  a  force  of  established  structures  and  habits  and  beliefs, 
such  as  offers  considerable  resistance  to  change  ;  on  the  other 
hand,  an  originality,  an  independence,  and  an  opposition  to 
authority,  energetic  enough  to  overcome  the  resistance  little 
by  little.  And  while  the  political  nonconformity  we  call 
Radicalism  has  the  function  of  thus  gradually  modifying  one 
set  of  institutions,  the  religious  nonconformity  we  call  Dis- 
sent has  the  function  of  thus  gradually  modifying  another 
set. 

That  Mr.  Arnold  does  not  take  this  entirely -unprovincial 
view,  which  would  lead  him  to  look  on  Dissenters  with  less 
aversion,  may  in  part,  I  think,  be  ascribed  to  that  over- valua- 
tion of  foreign  restraints  and  under- valuation  of  home  free- 
dom, which  his  bias  of  anti-patriotism  fosters ;  and  serves 
further  to  illustrate  the  disturbing  effects  of  this  bias  on  socio- 
logical speculation. 

And  now  to  sum  up  this  somewhat-too-elaborate  argument. 
The  general  truth  that  by  incorporation  in  his  society,  the 
citizen  is  in  a  measure  incapacitated  for  estimating  rightly  its 
characters  and  actions  in  relation  to  those  of  other  societies, 
has  been  made  abundantly  manifest.  And  it  has  been  made 
manifest,  also,  that  when  he  strives  to  emancipate  himself 
from  these  influences  of  race,  and  country,  and  locality,  which 
warp  his  judgment,  he  is  apt  to  have  his  judgment  warped  in 
the  opposite  way.  From  the  perihelion  of  patriotism  he  is 
carried  to  the  ai^helion  of  anti-patriotism  ;  and  is  almost  cer- 


21 S  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

tain  to  form  views  that  ai'e  more  or  less  excentric,  instead  of 
circular,  all-sided,  balanced  views. 

Partial  escape  from  this  ditiiculty  is  promised  by  basing 
our  sociological  conclusions  chiefly  on  comparisons  made 
among  other  societies — excluding  our  own.  But  even  then 
these  perverting  sentiments  are  sure  to  intrude  more  or  less ; 
for  we  caniiot  contemplate  the  institutions  of  other  nations 
without  our  sympathies  or  antipathies  being  in  some  degree 
aroused  by  consciousness  of  likeness  or  unlikeness  to  our  own 
institutions.  Discounting  our  conclusions  as  well  as  we  may, 
to  allow  for  the  errors  we  are  thus  led  into,  we  must  leave  the 
entii-e  elimination  of  such  errors  to  a  future  in  which  the  de- 
creasing antagonisms  of  societies  will  go  along  wdth  decreas- 
ing intensities  of  these  sentiments. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE   CLASS-BIAS. 


Many  years  ago  a  solicitor  sitting  by  me  at  dinner,  com- 
plained bitterly  of  the  injury  which  the  then  lately-established 
County  Courts,  were  doing  his  profession.  He  enlarged  on 
the  topic  in  a  way  implying  that  he  expected  me  to  agree  with 
him  in  therefore  condemning  them.  So  incai^able  was  he  of 
going  beyond  the  professional  point  of  view,  that  what  he  re- 
garded as  a  grievance  he  thought  I  also  ought  to  regard  as  a 
grievance :  oblivious  of  the  fact  that  the  more  economical  ad- 
ministration of  justice  of  which  his  lamentation  gave  me 
proof,  was  to  me,  not  being  a  lawyer,  matter  for  rejoicing. 

The  bias  thus  exemplified  is  a  bias  by  whicli  nearly  all 
have  their  opinons  warped.  Naval  officers  disclose  their  un- 
hesitating belief  that  we  are  in  imminent  danger  because  the 
cry  for  more  fighting  ships  and  more  sailors  has  not  been  met 
to  their  satisfaction.  The  debates  on  the  purchase-system 
proved  how  strong  was  the  conviction  of  military  men  that 
our  national  safety  depended  on  the  maintenance  of  an  army- 
organization  like  that  in  which  they  were  brought  up,  and  had 
attained  their  respective  ranks.  Clerical  opposition  to  the 
Corn-Laws  showed  how  completely  that  view  which  Christian 
ministers  might  have  been  expected  to  take,  was  shut  out  by 
a  view  more  congruous  with  their  interests  and  alliances.  In 
all  classes  and  sub-classes  it  is  the  same.  Hear  the  murmurs 
uttered  when,  because  of  the  Queen's  absence,  there  is  less  ex- 
penditure in  entertainments  and  the  so-called  gaieties  of  the 
season,  and  you  perceive  that  London  ti^aders  think  the  nation 
suffers  if  the  consumption  of  superfluities  is  checked.  Study 
the  pending  conti'oversy  about  co-operative  stores  versus  retail 
shops,  and  you  find  the  shop  keeping  mind  possessed  by  the 

819 


220  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

idea  that  Society  commits  a  wi'ong  if  it  deserts  shops  and  goes 
to  stores — is  quite  vincouscious  that  the  present  distributing 
system  riglitly  exists  only  as  a  means  of  economically  and 
conveniently  supplying  consumers,  and  must  yield  to  another 
system  if  that  should  prove  more  economical  and  convenient. 
Similarly  with  other  trading  bodies,  general  and  special — 
similai'ly  with  the  merchants  who  opposed  the  repeal  of  the 
Navigation  Laws ;  similarly  with  the  Coventry-weavers,  who 
like  free-trade  in  all  things  save  ribbons. 

The  class-bias,  like  the  bias  of  patriotism,  is  a  reflex  ego- 
ism ;  and  like  it  has  its  uses  and  abuses.  As  the  strong  attach- 
ments citizens  feel  for  their  nation  cause  that  enthusiastic  co- 
operation by  which  its  integrity  is  maintained  in  presence  of 
other  nations,  severally  tending  to  spread  and  subjugate  their 
neighbours ;  so  the  esprit  de  corps  more  or  less  manifest  in 
each  specialized  part  of  the  body  politic,  prompts  measures  to 
preserve  the  integrity  of  that  part  in  opposition  to  other  parts, 
all  somewliat  antagonistic.  The  egoism  of  individuals  leads 
to  an  egoism  of  the  class  tliey  form  ;  and  besides  the  separate 
efforts,  generates  a  joint  effort  to  get  an  undue  share  of  the 
aggregate  proceeds  of  social  activity.  The  aggressive  tendency 
of  each  class,  thus  produced,  lias  to  be  balanced  by  like  ag- 
gressive tendencies  of  other  classes.  The  implied  feelings  do, 
in  short,  develop  one  another ;  and  the  respective  organiza- 
tions in  which  they  embody  themselves  develop  one  another. 
Large  classes  of  the  community  marked-off  by  rank,  and  sub- 
classes marked-otf  by  special  occupations,  severally  combine, 
and  severally  set  up  organs  advocating  their  interests :  the 
reason  assigned  being  in  all  cases  the  same — the  need  for  self- 
defence. 

Along  with  the  good  which  a  society  derives  from  this  solf- 
assertiug  and  self-preserving  action,  by  which  each  division 
and  sub-division  keeps  itself  strong  enough  for  its  functions, 
there  goes,  among  other  evils,  this  which  we  are  considering — 
the  aptness  to  contemplate  all  social  arrangements  in  their 
boariiifTs  on  class-interests,  and  tlie  resulting  inabiliiy  to  esti- 
mate riglitly  their  ell'ects  onSiK-iety  asa  whole.  The  h;ibit  of 
thought  prcKluoed  jierverts  not  merely  the  judgments  on  ques- 
tions which  directly  touch  cliuss-welfare  ;  but  it  perverts  the 


THE  CLASS-BIAS.  221 

judgments  on  questions  which  touch  class-welfare  very  indi- 
rectly, if  at  all.  It  fosters  an  adapted  theory  of  social  relations 
of  every  kind,  with  sentiments  to  fit  the  theory  ;  and  a  char- 
acteristic stamp  is  given  to  the  beliefs  on  public  matters  in 
general.     Take  an  instance. 

Whatever  its  technical  ownership  may  be,  Hyde  Park  is 
open  for  the  public  benefit :  no  title  to  special  benefit  is  pro- 
ducible by  those  who  ride  and  drive.  It  happens,  however, 
that  those  who  ride  and  drive  make  large  use  of  it  daily ;  and 
extensive  tracts  of  it  have  been  laid  out  for  their  convenience  : 
the  tracts  for  equestrians  having  been  from  time  to  time  in- 
creased. Of  people  without  carriages  and  horses,  a  few, 
mostly  of  the  kinds  who  lead  easy  lives,  use  Hyde  Park 
frequently  as  a  promenade.  Meanwhile,  by  the  great  mass  of 
Londoners,  too  busy  to  go  so  far,  it  is  scarcely  ever  visited : 
their  share  of  the  general  beiiefit  is  scarcely  appreciable. 
And  now  what  do  the  few  who  have  a  constant  and  almost 
exclusive  use  of  it,  think  about  the  occasional  use  of  it  by 
the  many  ?  They  are  angry  when,  at  long  intervals,  even  a 
small  portion  of  it,  quite  distant  from  their  haunts,  is  occu- 
pied for  a  few  hours  in  ways  disagreeable  to  them — nay,  even 
when  such  tempoi-ary  occupation  is  on  a  day  during  which 
Rotten  Row  is  nearly  vacant  and  the  drives  not  one-third 
filled.  In  this,  anyone  imconcerned  may  see  the  influence  of 
the  class-bias.  But  he  will  have  an  inadequate  conception  of 
its  distorting  power  unless  he  turns  to  some  letters  from 
members  of  the  ruling  class  published  in  the  Times  in  No- 
vember last,  when  the  question  of  the  Park-Rules  was  being 
agitated.  One  writer,  signing  himself  "  A  Liberal  M.P.,"  ex- 
pressing his  disgust  at  certain  addresses  he  heard,  proposed, 
if  others  would  join  him,  to  give  the  offensive  speakers 
punishment  by  force  of  fists  ;  and  then,  on  a  subsequent  day, 
another  legislator,  similarly  moved,  writes  : — 

"  If  '  M.P.'  is  in  earnest  in  his  desire  to  get  some  honest  men  to- 
gether to  take  the  law  into  their  own  hands,  I  can  promise  him  a 
pretty  good  backing  from  those  who  are  not  afraid  to  take  all  the 
consequences.  I  am,  Sir,  yoiir  obedient  servant, 

"  AN  EX-M.P." 

And  thus  we  find  class-feeling  extinguishing  rational  politi- 
cal thinking  so  completely   that,  wonderful    to  relate,  two 


222  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

law-makers  propose  to  support  the  law  by  breaking  the 
law! 

In  larger  ways  we  have  of  late  seen  the  class-bias  doing 
the  same  thing — causing  contempt  for  those  principles  of  con- 
stitutional government  slowly  and  laboriously  established, 
and  prompting  a  retm*n  to  barbaric  principles  of  govern- 
ment. Read  the  debate  about  the  payment  of  Governor 
Eyre's  expenses,  and  study  the  division-lists,  and  you  see 
that  acts  which,  according  to  the  Lord  Chief  Justice,  "  have 
brought  reproach  not  onlj^  on  those  who  were  parties  to  them, 
but  on  the  very  name  of  England,''  can  nevertheless  find 
numerous  defenders  among  men  Avhose  class-positions,  mili- 
tary, naval,  official,  &c.,  make  them  love  power  and  detest 
resistance.  Nay  more,  by  raising  an  Eyre-Testimonial  Fund 
and  in  other  ways,  there  was  shown  a  deliberate  approval  of 
acts  which  needlessly  suspended  orderly  government  and 
substituted  unrestrained  despotism.  There  was  shown  a  de- 
liberate ignoring  of  the  essential  question  raised,  which  was — 
whether  an  executive  head  might,  at  will,  set  aside  all  those 
forms  of  adniinistration  by  which  men's  lives  and  liberties 
are  guarded  against  tp^aiuiy. 

More  recently,  this  same  class-bias  has  been  shown  by  the 
protest  made  when  Mr.  Cowan  was  dismissed  for  executing 
the  Kooka  riotei*s  wlio  had  surrendered.  The  Indian  Govern- 
ment, having  inquired  into  the  particulars,  found  that  this 
killing  of  many  men  without  form  of  law  and  contrary  to 
orders,  could  not  be  defended  on  the  plea  of  pressing  danger ; 
and  finding  this,  it  ceased  to  employ  the  officer  who  had 
cornnutted  so  astouiuliug  a  deed,  and  removed  to  another 
province  the  superior  ollicer  wlio  had  approved  of  tlic  deed. 
Not  excessive  punisliment,  one  would  say.  Some  might  con- 
tend that  extreme  mildness  was  shown  in  thus  inflicting  no 
greater  evil  than  is  inflicted  on  a  labourer  wlien  lie  does  not 
execute  his  work  ])r<)perly.  But  now  mark  what  is  thought 
by  one  who  displays  in  words  the  bias  of  the  governing 
classes,  intensified  \>y  life  in  India.  In  a  letter  i)ul)lished  in 
the  Times  of  May  15,  1H72,  tlit^  late  Sir  Donald  M'Leod  writes 
coiicorning  this  dismissal  iiiid  voiiioval  :    - 

"  All  tlu!  infonniitioii  llmt  ri'iiclics  iiic  lends  to  prove  tliat  a  scvoro 
blow  lias  bcfu  given  lo  uil  tliaiiee  of  vigonuis  or  independent  acliou 


THE  CLASS-BIAS.  223 

in  future,  when  emergencies  may  arise.  The  whole  service  appears  to 
have  been  astoiiisliod  and  appalled  by  the  mode  in  which  the  oflicers 
have  been  dealt  with." 

That  we  may  see  clearly  what  amazing  perversions  of 
sentiment  and  idea  are  caused  by  contemijlating  actions  from 
class  points  of  view,  let  us  turn  from  this  feeling  of  sympa- 
thy with  Mr.  Cowan,  to  the  feeling-  of  detestation  shown  by 
members  of  the  same  class  in  England  towards  a  man  who 
kills  a  fox  that  destroys  his  poultry.  Here  is  a  paragraph 
from  a  recent  paper : — 

"  Five  poisoned  foxes  have  been  found  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Penzance,  and  there  is  consequently  great  indignation  among  the 
western  sportsmen.  A  reward  of  201.  has  been  offered  for  informa- 
tion that  shall  lead  to  the  conviction  of  the  poisoner." 

So  that  wholesale  homicide,  condemned  alike  by  religion,  by 
equity,  by  law,  is  approved,  and  the  mildest  punishment  of  it 
blamed  ;  while  vulpicide,  committed  in  defence  of  property, 
and  condemned  neither  by  religion,  nor  by  equity,  nor  by 
any  law  save  that  of  sportsmen,  excites  an  anger  that  cries 
aloud  for  positive  penalties  ! 

I  need  not  further  illustrate  the  more  special  distortions  of 
sociological  belief  which  result  from  the  class-bias.  They  may 
be  detected  in  the  conversations  over  every  table,  and  in  the 
articles  appearing  in  every  party-journal  or  professional  pub- 
lication. The  effects  here  most  worthy  of  our  attention  are 
the  general  effects — the  effects  produced  on  the  minds  of  the 
upper  and  lower  classes.  Let  us  observe  how  greatly  the 
prejudices  generated  by  their  respective  social  positions,  per- 
vert the  conceptions  of  employers  and  employed.  We  will 
deal  with  the  employed  first. 

As  before  shown,  mere  associations  of  ideas,  especially 
when  joined  with  emotions,  affect  our  beliefs,  not  simply 
without  reason  but  in  spite  of  reason — causing  us,  for  in- 
stance, to  think  there  is  something  intrinsically  repugnant  in 
a  place  where  many  painful  experiences  have  been  received, 
and  something  intrinsically  channing  in  a  scene  connected 
with  many  past  delights.  The  liability  to  such  perversions  of 
judgment  is  greatest  where  persons  are  the  objects  with  which 
pleasures  and  pains  are  habitually  associated.     One  who  has 


224  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

often  been,  even  unintentionally,  a  cause  of  gratification,  is 
favourably  judged  ;  and  an  unfavourable  judgment  is  formed 
of  one  who,  even  involuntarily,  has  often  inflicted  sufferings. 
Hence,  when  there  are  social  antagonisms,  arises  the  universal 
tendency  to  blame  the  individuals,  and  to  hold  them  respon- 
sible for  the  system. 

It  is  thus  with  the  conceptions  the  working'-classes  frame 
of  those  by  whom  they  are  immediately  employed,  and  of 
those  who  fill  the  higher  social  positions.  Feeling  keenly 
what  they  have  to  bear,  and  tracing  sundry  real  grievances 
to  men  who  buy  their  labour  and  men  who  are  most  influen- 
tial in  making  the  laws,  artizans  and  rustics  conclude  that, 
considered  individually  and  in  combination,  those  above  them 
are  personally  bad — selfish,  or  tyrannical,  in  special  degrees. 
It  never  occurs  to  them  that  the  evils  they  complain  of  result 
from  the  average  human  nature  of  our  age.  And  yet  were  it 
not  for  the  class-bias,  they  would  see  in  their  dealings  with 
one  another,  plenty  of  proofs  that  the  injustices  they  suffer 
are  certainly  not  greater,  and  possibly  less,  than  they  would 
be  were  the  higher  social  functions  discharged  by  individuals 
taken  from  among  themselves.  The  simple  fact,  notorious 
enough,  that  working-men  who  save  money  and  become  mas- 
ters, are  not  more  considerate  than  usual  towards  those  they 
employ,  but  often  the  contrary,  might  alone  convince  them 
of  this.  On  all  sides  there  is  am])le  evidence  having  kindred 
meaning.  Let  them  inqiiire  about  tlie  life  in  everj^  kitchen 
where  there  are  several  servants,  and  they  will  find  quarrels 
about  supremacy,  tyrannies  over  juniors  who  are  made  to  do 
more  than  their  proper  work,  throwings  of  blame  from  one  to 
another,  and  tlie  many  forms  of  misconduct  caused  by  want 
of  riglit  feeling ;  and  very  often  the  evils  growing  up  in  one 
of  tliese  small  gi'oups  exceed  in  intensity  the  evils  pervading 
society  at  large.  The  doings  in  workshops,  too,  illustrate  in 
various  ways  the  ill-treatment  of  artizans  by  one  another. 
Hiding  the  tools  and  spoiling  the  work  of  those  wlio  do  not 
conform  to  their  unreasonable  customs,  prove  how  little  indi- 
vidual freedom  is  reBpocted  among  (hem.  And  still  more 
C()ns])icuonsly  is  tliis  proved  by  the  internal  governtnenls  of 
tlicir  trade-combinations.  Not  to  dwell  on  the  occasion;)! 
killing  of  ni(«n  ann)ng  them  wljo  a«sert  tlieir  rights  to  sell 


THE   CLASS-BIAS.  225 

their  labour  as  they  please,  or  on  the  frequent  acts  of  violence 
and  intimidation  committed  by  those  on  strike  against  those 
who  undertake  the  work  they  liave  refused,  it  suffices  to  cite 
the  despotism  exercised  by  trades-union  officers.  The  daily 
acts  of  these  make  it  manifest  that  the  ruling  powers  set  u}) 
by  working-men,  inflict  on  them  grievances  as  great  as,  if 
not  greater  than,  those  inflicted  by  the  ruling  powers,  political 
and  social,  which  they  decry.  When  the  heads  of  an  asso- 
ciation ho  has  joined  forbid  a  collier  to  work  more  than  three 
days  in  the  week — when  he  is  limited  to  a  certain  "  get "  in 
that  space  of  time — when  he  dares  not  accept  from  his  em- 
ployer an  increasing  bonus  for  every  extra  day  he  works — 
Avhen,  as  a  reason  for  declining,  he  says  that  he  sliould  be 
made  miserable  by  his  comrades,  and  that  even  his  wife 
would  not  be  spoken  to;  it  becomes  clear  that  he  and  the 
rest  have  made  for  themselves  a  tyranny  worse  than  the 
tyrannies  complained  of.  Did  he  look  at  the  facts  apart 
from  class-bias,  the  skilful  artizan,  who  in  a  given  time  can 
do  more  than  his  fellows,  but  who  dares  not  do  it  because 
he  would  be  "sent  to  Coventry"  by  them,  and  who  conse- 
quently cannot  reap  the  benefit  of  his  superior  powers,  would 
see  that  he  is  thus  aggressed  upon  by  his  fellows  more  seri- 
ously than  by  Acts  of  Parliament  or  combinations  of  capital- 
ists. And  he  would  further  see  that  the  sentiment  of  justice 
in  his  own  class  is  certainly  not  greater  than  in  the  classes  he 
thinks  so  unjust. 

The  feeling  which  thus  warps  working-men's  conceptions, 
at  the  same  time  prevents  them  from  seeing  that  each  of  their 
unions  is  selfishly  aiming  to  benefit  at  the  expense  of  the  in- 
dustrial population  at  lai'ge.  When  an  association  of  car- 
penters or  of  engineers  makes  rules  limiting  the  number  of 
apprentices  admitted,  with  the  view  of  maintaining  the  rate 
of  wages  paid  to  its  members — when  it  thus  tacitly  says  to 
every  applicant  beyond  the  number  allowed,  "  Go  and  ap- 
prentice yourself  elsewhere ; "  it  is  indirectly  saying  to  all 
other  bodies  of  artizans,  "  You  may  have  your  wages  lowered 
by  increasing  your  numbers,  but  we  will  not."  And  when 
the  other  bodies  of  artizans  severally  do  the  like,  the  general 
result  is  that  tlie  incorporated  workers  of  all  orders,  say  to  the 
surplus  sons  of  workers  who  want  to  find  occupations,  "  We 


220  THE   STUDY   OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

will  none  of  us  let  our  masters  employ  j'ou."  Thus  each 
trade,  in  its  eagerness  for  self -protect!  on,  is  regardless  of  other 
trades,  and  sacrifices  numbers  among  the  rising  generation  of 
the  artizan-class.  Nor  is  it  thus  only  that  the  interest 

of  each  class  of  artizans  is  pui'sued  to  the  detriment  of  the  arti- 
zan-class in  general.  I  do  not  refer  to  the  way  in  which  when 
bricklayers  strike  they  tlirow  out  of  employment  the  labourers 
who  attend  them,  or  to  the  way  in  which  the  colliers  now  on 
strike  have  forced  idleness  on  the  ironworkers ;  but  I  refer  to 
the  way  in  which  the  course  taken  by  any  one  set  of  opera- 
tives to  get  higher  wages,  is  taken  i-egardless  of  the  fact  that 
an  eventual  rise  in  the  price  of  the  connnocUty  produced,  is  a 
disadvantage  to  all  other  operatives.  The  class-bias,  fostering 
the  belief  that  the  question  in  each  case  is  entirely  one  between 
employer  and  employed,  between  capital  and  labour,  shuts  out 
the  truth  that  the  interests  of  all  consumers  are  involved,  and 
that  the  immense  majority  of  consumers  belong  to  the  work- 
ing-classes themselves.  If  the  consumers  are  named,  such  of 
them  only  are  remembered  as  belong  to  the  wealthier  classes, 
who,  it  is  thought,  can  well  afford  to  pay  higher  prices.  Lis- 
ten to  a  passage  from  Mr.  George  Potter's  paper  read  at  the 
late  Leeds  Congress  : — 

"  The  consumer,  in  fact,  in  so  high  a  civilization,  so  arrogant  a 
luxuriousness,  and  so  impatient  an  expectancy  as  characterize  him  in 
our  land  and  age.  is  ever  ready  to  take  the  alarm  and  to  pour  out  the 
vials  of  his  wrath  upon  those  whom  he  merely  suspects  of  taking  a 
course  which  may  keep  a  feather  out  of  his  bed,  a  spice  out  of  liis 
dish,  or  a  coal  out  of  his  fire  ;  and,  unfortunately  for  the  cliances  of 
fairness,  the  weight  of  his  anger  seldom  falls  upon  the  capitalist,  but 
is  most  certain  to  come  crushing  down  upon  the  lowly  labourer,  who 
has  dared  to  stand  upon  his  own  right  and  independence." 

From  which  it  might  be  supposed  that  all  skilled  and  un- 
skilled arti/.ans.  all  farm-labourers,  all  other  workers,  with  all 
their  wives  and  cliildrcn,  live  upon  air— need  no  fcvxl,  no 
clothing,  no  furniture,  no  houses,  and  are  therefore  unaffected 
by  enhanced  prices  of  comnK)ditics.  However  fully  ])rei)arcd 
for  the  distorting  eirecls  of  cla.ss-bias,  one  would  hardly  liavo 
expected  ciYiicin  so  gre;it.  (.)iie  Avould  have  tliought  it  mani- 
fest even  to  an  extreme  ])arti/.an  of  trades-unions,  that  a  strike 
whicli  makes  coals  jls  dear  again,  affects  in  ;i  relatively-small 


THE  CLASS-BIAS.  227 

degree  the  thousands  of  rich  consumers  above  described,  and 
is  very  keenly  felt  by  the  millions  of  poor  consumers,  to  whom 
in  winter  the  outlay  for  coal  is  a  serious  item  of  expenditure. 
One  would  have  thought  that  a  truth  so  obvious  in  this  case, 
would  be  recognized  throughout— the  truth  that  with  nearly 
all  products  of  industry,  the  evil  caused  by  a  rise  of  price  falls 
more  heavily  on  the  vast  numbers  who  work  for  wages  than 
on  the  small  numbers  who  have  moderate  incomes  or  large 
incomes. 

Were  not  their  judgments  warped  by  the  class-bias,  work- 
ing-men might  be  more  pervious  to  the  truth  that  better  forms 
of  industrial  organization  would  grow  up  and  extinguish  the 
forms  which  they  regard  as  oppressive,  were  such  better  forms 
practicable.  And  they  might  see  that  the  impracticability  of 
better  forms  results  from  the  imperfections  of  existing  human 
nature,  moral  and  intellectual.  If  the  workers  in  any  busi- 
ness could  so  combine  and  govern  themselves  that  the  share 
of  profit  coming  to  them  as  workers  was  greater  than  now, 
while  the  interest  on  the  capital  employed  was  less  than  now  ; 
and  if  they  could  at  the  same  time  sell  the  articles  produced 
at  lower  rates  than  like  articles  produced  in  businesses  man- 
aged as  at  present ;  then,  manifestly,  businesses  managed  as 
at  present  would  go  to  the  wall.  That  they  do  not  go  to 
the  wall — that  such  better  industrial  organizations  do  not 
replace  them,  implies  that  the  natures  of  working-men  them- 
selves are  not  good  enough ;  or,  at  least,  that  there  are  not 
many  of  them  good  enough.  Hapjiily,  to  some  extent  organ- 
izations of  a  superior  type  are  becoming  j)ossible :  here  and 
there  they  have  achieved  encouraging  successes.  But,  speak- 
ing generally,  the  masses  are  neither  suthciently  jirovident, 
nor  sufficiently  conscientious,  nor  sufficiently  intelligent. 
Consider  the  evidence. 

That  they  are  not  provident  enough  they  show  both  by 
wasting  their  higher  wages  when  they  get  them,  and  by  neg- 
lecting such  opi>ortunities  as  occur  of  entering  into  modified 
forms  of  co-operative  industry.  When  the  Gloucester  Wag- 
gon Comx3any  was  formed,  it  was  decided  to  reserve  a  thou- 
sand of  its  shares,  of  £10  each,  for  the  workmen  employed  ; 
and  to  suit  them,  it  was  arranged  that  the  calls  of  a  pound 
each  should  be  at  intervals  of  three  months.     As  many  of  the 


228  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

men  earned  £2  10s.  per  week,  in  a  locality  where  living  was 
not  costly,  it  was  considered  that  the  taking-up  of  shares  in 
this  manner  would  be  quite  practicable.  All  the  circumstances 
were  at  the  outset  such  as  to  promise  that  prosperity  which 
the  company  has  since  achieved.  The  chairman  is  no  less  re- 
markable for  his  skill  in  the  conduct  of  large  undertakings 
than  for  that  sjTnpathy  with  the  working-classes  which  led 
liim  to  adopt  this  coui'se.  The  manager  had  been  a  working- 
man  ;  and  possessed  the  confidence  of  working-men  in  so  high 
a  degree,  that  many  migrated  with  him  from  the  Midland 
counties  when  the  company  was  formed.  Further,  the  man- 
ager entered  heartily  into  the  plan — telling  me  himself,  that 
he  had  rejoiced  over  the  founding  of  a  concern  in  which 
those  employed  would  have  an  interest.  His  hopes,  however, 
and  those  of  the  chairman,  were  disappointed.  After  the 
lapse  of  a  year  not  one  of  the  thousand  shares  was  taken  up ; 
and  they  Avere  then  distributed  among  the  proprietoi'S.  Doubt- 
less, there  have  been  in  other  cases  more  encom'aging  results. 
But  this  case  is  one  added  to  others  which  show  that  the 
proportion  of  working-men  adequately  provident  is  not  great 
enougli  to  permit  an  extensive  growth  of  better  industrial 
organizations.' 

Again,  the  success  of  industrial  organizations  higher  in 
type,  requires  in  the  members  a  nicer  sense  of  justice  than  is 
at  present  general.  Closer  co-operation  imjilies  greater  mutual 
trust ;  and  greater  mutual  trust  is  not  possible  without  more 
respect  for  one  another's  claims.  When  we  find  that  in  sick- 
clubs  it  is  not  uncommon  for  members  to  continue  receiving 
aid  when  they  are  able  to  work,  so  that  spies  have  to  be  set  to 
clieck  them ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  those  who  administer 
the  funds  often  cause  insolvencj'  by  embezzling  them ;  we 
cannot  avoid  the  inference  that  want  of  conscientiousness  pre- 
vents the  effective  union  of  workers  under  no  regulation  but 
their  f)wn.  When,  among  skilled  labourers,  wo  find  a  certain 
rate  por  hour  demanded,  l)ecause  loss  ''did  not  sulHce  for  tlieir 
natural  wants,"  tliough  the  unskillod  labounM-s  working  under 
tlHiii  were  receiving  little  Tiu)r(>  tliaii  half  the  rate  per  hour, 
and  were  kej)t  out  of  the  skilled  class  by  string(>nt  niles,  we 
do  not  discover  a  moral  sense  so  nnich  al)ov(>  that  shown  by 
emitloyers  a.s  to  promise  success  for  industrial  combinations 


THE  CLASS-BIAS.  229 

superior  to  our  present  ones.  Wliile  workmen  think  them- 
selves justified  in  combining  to  sell  their  labour  only  on  cer- 
tain terms,  but  think  masters  not  justified  in  combining-  to 
buy  it  only  on  certain  terms,  they  show  a  conception  of  equity 
not  high  enough  to  make  practicable  a  form  of  co-operation 
requiring  that  each  shall  recognize  the  claims  of  others  as 
fully  as  his  own.  One  pervading  misconceptit)n  of  justice  be- 
trayed by  them  would  alone  suffice  to  cause  failure— the  mis- 
conception, namely,  that  justice  requires  an  equal  sharing  of 
benefits  among  pi'oducers,  instead  of  requiring,  as  it  does, 
equal  freedom  to  make  the  best  of  their  faculties.  The  gen- 
eral policy  of  trades-unionism,  tending  everywhere  to  restrain 
the  superior  from  profiting  by  his  superiority  lest  the  inferior 
should  be  disadvantaged,  is  a  policy  which,  acted  out  in  any 
industrial  combinations,  must  make  them  incapable  of  com- 
peting with  combinations  based  on  the  principle  that  benefit 
gained  shall  be  proportioned  to  faculty  put  forth. 

Thus,  as  acting  on  the  employed  in  general,  the  class-bias 
obscures  the  truth,  otherwise  not  easy  to  see,  that  the  existing 
type  of  industrial  organization,  like  the  existing  type  of  polit- 
ical organization,  is  about  as  good  as  existing  human  nature 
allows.  The  evils  there  are  in  it  are  nothing  but  the  evils 
brought  round  on  men  by  their  own  imperfections.  The  rela- 
tion of  master  and  workman  has  to  be  tolerated,  because,  for 
the  time  being,  no  other  will  answer  as  well.  Looked  at  apart 
from  special  interests,  this  organization  of  industry  we  now 
see  around  us,  must  be  considered  as  one  in  which  the  cost  of 
regulation,  though  not  so  great  as  it  once  was,  is  still  exces- 
sive. In  any  industrial  combination  there  must  be  a  regulat- 
ing agency.  That  regulating  agency,  whatever  its  nature, 
must  be  paid  for — must  involve  a  deduction  from  the  total 
proceeds  of  the  labour  regulated.  The  present  system  is  one 
under  which  the  share  of  the  total  proceeds  that  goes  to  pay 
for  regulation,  is  considerable ;  and  under  better  systems  to 
be  expected  hereafter,  there  will  doubtless  be  a  decrease  in  the 
cost  of  regulation.  Biit,  for  the  present,  our  comparatively- 
costly  system  has  the  justification  that  it  alone  succeeds.  Reg- 
ulation is  costly  because  the  men  to  be  regulated  are  defec- 
tive. With  decrease  of  their  defects  will  come  economy  of  reg- 
ulation, and  consequently  greater  shares  of  profit  to  themselves. 


230  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

Let  me  not  be  misunderstood.  The  foregoing  criticism 
does  not  imply  that  operatives  have  no  grievances  to  com- 
plain of ;  nor  does  it  imply  that  trade-combinations  and  strikes 
are  without  adequate  justifications.  It  is  quite  possible  to  hold 
that  when,  instead  of  devouring  their  captured  enemies,  men 
made  slaves  of  them,  the  change  was  a  step  in  advance  ;  and 
to  hold  that  this  slavery,  though  absolutely  bad,  was  relatively 
good— was  the  best  thing  practicjable  for  the  time  being.  It  is 
quite  possible  also  to  hold  that  when  slavery  gave  place  to  a 
serfdom  under  which  certain  personal  rights  were  recognized, 
the  new  arrangement,  though  in  the  abstract  an  inequitable 
one,  was  more  equitable  than  the  old,  and  constituted  as  great 
an  amelioration  as  men's  natures  then  permitted.  It  is  quite 
possible  to  hold  that  v,-hen,  instead  of  serfs,  there  came  free- 
men working  for  wages,  but  held  as  a  class  in  extreme  sub- 
ordination, this  modified  relation  of  employers  and  employed, 
though  bad,  was  as  good  a  one  as  could  then  be  established. 
And  so  it  may  be  held  that  at  the  present  time,  tliough  the 
form  of  industrial  government  entails  serious  evils,  those 
evils,  much  less  than  the  evils  of  past  times,  are  as  small  as 
the  average  human  nature  allows— are  not  due  to  any  special 
injustice  of  the  employing  class,  and  can  be  remedied  only  as 
fast  as  men  in  general  advance.  On  the  other  hand, 

while  contending  that  the  policy  of  ti*ades-unions  and  the 
actions  of  men  on  strike,  manifest  an  injustice  as  gi'eat  as  that 
shown  by  the  employing  classes,  it  is  quite  consistent  to  ad- 
mit, and  even  to  assert,  that  the  evil  acts  of  trade-combina- 
tions are  the  unavoidable  accompaniments  of  a  needful  self- 
defence.  Selfisliuess  on  the  one  side  resisting  selfishness  on 
the  other,  inevitably  commits  sins  akin  to  those  it  complains 
of — cannot  effectually  check  harsh  dealings  without  itself 
using  ha7'sh  measures.  Further,  it  may  be  fully  admitted 
that  the  evils  of  working-class  combinations,  great  as  they  are, 
go  along  with  certain  benefits,  and  will  hereafter  l)e  followed 
by  greater  benefits — are  evils  involved  by  the  transition  to 
better  arraiigi-iiK'Tits. 

Here  my  jjurpose  is  neither  to  condt'niii  nor  to  applaud  the 
ideas  and  actions  of  the  employed  in  their  dealings  with  em- 
ployers ;  but  sim])ly  to  point  out  Imw  the  <'lass-bias  warps 
working-men's  judgments  of  social  relations — makes  it  dilli- 


THE  CLASS-BIAS.  231 

cult  for  working-men  to  see  that  our  existing  industrial  sys- 
tem is  a  product  of  existing  human  nature,  and  can  be  im- 
proved only  as  fast  as  human  nature  improves. 

The  ruling  and  employing  classes  display  an  equally-strong 
bias  of  the  opposite  kind.  From  their  point  of  view,  the  be- 
haviour of  their  poorer  fellow-citizens  throughout  these  strug- 
gles appears  uniformly  blamable.  Tliat  they  experience  from 
a  strike  inconvenience  more  or  less  considerable,  sufficiently 
proves  to  them  that  the  strike  must  be  wrong.  They  think 
there  is  something  intolerable  in  this  independence  which 
leads  to  refusals  to  vfork  except  at  higher  wages  or  for  shorter 
times.  That  the  many  should  be  so  reckless  of  the  welfare  of 
the  few,  seems  to  the  few  a  grievance  not  to  be  endured. 
Thougli  Mr.  George  Potter,  as  shown  above,  wrongly  speaks 
of  the  consumer  as  though  he  were  always  rich,  instead  of 
being,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  poor ;  yet  he  rightly  describes 
the  rich  consumer  as  indignant  when  operatives  dare  to  take 
a  course  which  threatens  to  raise  the  prices  of  necessaries  and 
make  luxuries  more  costly.  This  feeling,  often  betrayed  in 
private,  exhibited  itself  in  public  on  the  occasion  of  the  late 
strike  among  the  gas-stokers ;  when  there  were  uttered  pro- 
posals that  acts  entailing  so  much  annoyance  should  be  i)ut 
down  with  a  strong  hand.  And  the  same  spirit  was  shown  in 
that  straining  of  the  law  which  brought  on  the  men  tlie  pun- 
ishment for  conspiracy,  instead  of  tlie  punisbment  for  breach 
of  contract ;  which  was  well  deserved,  and  would  have  been 
quite  sufficient. 

This  mental  attitude  of  the  employing  classes  is  daily 
shown  by  the  criticisms  passed  on  servants.  Read  The  Great- 
est Plague  in  Life,  or  listen  to  the  complaints  of  every  house- 
wife, and  you  see  that  the  minds  of  masters  and  mistresses  are  so 
much  occupied  with  their  own  interests  as  to  leave  little  rooin 
for  the  interests  of  the  inen  and  maids  in  their  service.  The 
very  title,  The  Greatest  Plague  hi  Life,  implies  that  the  only 
life  worthy  of  notice  is  the  life  to  which  servants  minister ; 
and  there  is  an  entire  unconsciousness  that  a  book  with  the 
same  title,  written  by  a  servant  about  masters  and  mistresses, 
might  be  filled  with  equally-severe  criticisms  and  grievances 
far  more  serious.     The  increasing  independence  of  servants  is 


232  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

enlarged  upon  as  a  change  greatly  to  be  lamented.  There  is 
no  recognition  of  the  fact  that  this  increasing  independence 
implies  an  increasing  prosperity  of  the  classes  from  ^hich 
servants  come  ;  and  that  this  amelioration  in  the  condition  of 
the  many  is  a  good  far  greater  than  the  evil  entailed  on  the  few. 
It  is  not  perceived  that  if  servants,  being  in  great  demand  and 
easily  able  to  get  places,  will  no  longer  submit  to  restrictions, 
say  about  dress,  like  those  of  past  times,  the  change  is  part  of 
the  progress  towards  a  social  state  which,  if  apparently  not  so 
convenient  for  the  small  regulating  classes,  implies  an  eleva- 
tion of  the  large  regulated  classes. 

The  feeling  shown  by  the  rich  in  their  thoughts  about,  and 
dealings  with,  the  poor,  is,  in  truth,  but  a  mitigated  form  of 
the  feeling  which  owners  of  serfs  and  owners  of  slaves  dis- 
l^layed.  In  early  times  bondsmen  were  treated  as  though  they 
existed  simj)ly  for  the  benefit  of  their  owners ;  and  down  to 
the  present  time  the  belief  pervading  the  select  ranks  (not  in- 
deed expressed  but  clearly  enough  implied)  is,  that  the  con- 
venience of  the  select  is  the  first  consideration,  and  the  welfare 
of  the  masses  a  secondary  consideration.  Just  as  an  Old-Eng- 
lish thane  would  have  been  astonished  if  told  that  the  only 
justification  for  his  existence  as  an  owner  of  thralls,  was  that 
the  lives  of  his  thralls  were  on  the  whole  better  preserved  and 
more  comfortable  tlian  they  would  be  did  he  not  own  them ; 
so,  now,  it  will  astonish  the  dominant  classes  to  a.ssert  that 
their  only  legitimate  raison  d'etre  is  that  by  their  instrumen- 
tality as  regulators,  the  lives  of  the  people  are,  on  the  average, 
made  more  satisfactory  than  they  would  otherwise  be.  And 
yet,  looked  at  apart  from  class-bias,  this  is  surely  an  undeniable 
trutli.  Ethically  considei'ed,  there  has  never  been  any  war- 
rant for  llie  subjection  of  the  many  to  the  few,  except  tlial  it 
has  furthered  the  welfare  of  the  many ;  and  at  the  present 
time,  furtlicrance  of  the  welfare  of  the  many  is  tlie  only  war- 
rant for  that  degree  of  cla.s.s-subordiiuition  wliicli  continues. 
The  existing  conception  must  be,  in  the  end,  entirely  changed. 
Just  as  the  old  theory  of  ])()litical  government  has  been  so 
transformed  that  Ibe  ruling  agent,  instead  of  b(>ing  owner  of 
the  nation,  lias  come  to  be  regarded  as  seiwant  of  the  nation; 
Ko  tbe  old  tlii'ory  of  industrial  and  social  government  has  to 
undergo  a  tninsfornuition    which    will    make   the   regulating 


THE  CLASS-BIAS.  233 

classes  feel,  while  duly  piirsiiing  their  own  interests,  that  their 
interests  are  secondary  to  the  interests  of  the  masses  wliose 
labours  they  direct. 

While  the  bias  of  rulers  and  masters  makes  it  difficult  for 
them  to  conceive  this,  it  also  makes  it  difficult  for  them  to  con- 
ceive that  a  decline  of  class-power  and  a  decrease  of  class-dis- 
tinction may  be  accompanied  by  imj)rovement  not  only  in  the 
lives  of  the  regulated  classes,  but  in  the  lives  of  the  regulating 
classes.    The  sentiments  and  ideas  proper  to  the  existing  social 
organization,  prevent  the  rich  from  seeing   that  worry  and 
wearmess  and  disappointment  result  to  them  indirectly  from 
this  social  system  apparently  so  conducive  to  their  welfare. 
Yet,  would  they  contemplate  the  past,  they  might  find  strong 
reasons  for  suspecting  as  much.     The  baron  of  feudal  days 
never  imagined  the  possibility  of  social  arrangements  that 
would   serve  hir.i  far  better  than   the  arrangements  he  so 
strenuously  upheld ;  nor  did  he  see  in  the  arrangements  he 
upheld  the  causes  of  his  many  sufferings  and  discomforts. 
Had  he  been  told  that  a  noble  might  be  much  happier  with- 
out a  moated  castle,  having  its  keep  and  secret  passages  and 
dungeons  for  prisoners — that  he  might  be  more  secure  without 
drawbridge  and  portcullis,  men-at-ai-ms  and  sentinels — that  he 
might  be  in  less  danger  having  no  vassals  or  hired  mercenaries 
— that  he  might  be  wealthier  without  possessing  a  single  serf ; 
he  would  have  thought  the  statements  absiu-d  even  to  tlie  ex- 
tent of  insanity.     It  would  have  been  useless  to  argue  that  the 
regime  seeming  so  advantageous  to  him,  entailed  hardshij)s  of 
many  kinds — j)erpetual  feuds  with  his  neighbours,  open  at- 
tacks, surprises,  betrayals,  revenges  by  equals,  treacheries  by 
inferiors ;   the  continual    carrying  of   arms  and  wearing  of 
armour :  the  jierpetual  quarrellings  of  servants  and  disputes 
among  vassals ;  the  coarse  and  unvaried  food  supplied  by  an 
unpi'osperous  agriculture ;  a  domestic  discomfort  such  as  no 
modern  servant  would  tolerate ;  resulting  in  a  wear  and  tear 
that  brought  life  to  a  comparatively-early  close,  if  it  was  not 
violently  cut  short  in  battle  or  by  murder.    Yet  what  the  class- 
bias  of  that  time  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  see,  has  become 
to  his  modern  representative  consjiicuous  enough.     The  peer 
of  our  day  knows  that  he  is  better  off  without  defensive  ap- 
pliances and  retainers  and  serfs  than  his  predecessor  was  with 


234:  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

thenq.  His  country-house  is  more  secure  than  was  an  embat- 
tled tower ;  he  is  safer  among  his  unarmed  domestics  than  a 
feudal  lord  was  when  surrounded  by  armed  guai'ds ;  he  is  in 
less  danger  going  about  weaponless  than  was  the  mail-clad 
Iniight  with  lance  and  sword.  Though  he  has  no  vassals  to 
fight  at  his  command,  there  is  no  suzerain  who  can  call  on 
him  to  sacrifice  his  life  in  a  quarrel  not  his  own ;  though  he 
can  compel  no  one  to  labour,  the  labours  of  freemen  make 
him  immensely  more  wealthy  than  was  the  ancient  holder  of 
bondsmen ;  and  along  with  the  loss  of  direct  control  over 
workers,  there  has  gro-rni  up  an  industrial  system  which  sup- 
lilies  him  with  nuiltitudinous  conveniences  and  luxuries  un- 
dreamt of  by  him  who  had  workers  at  his  mercy. 

May  we  not,  then,  infer  that  just  as  the  dominant  classes  of 
ancient  days  were  prevented  by  the  feelings  and  ideas  appro- 
priate to  the  then-existing  social  state,  from  seeing  how  nmch 
evil  it  brought  on  them,  and  how  much  better  for  them  might 
be  a  social  state  in  which  their  power  was  much  less ;  so  tlie 
dominant  classes  of  the  present  day  are  prevented  from  seeing 
how  the  existing  forms  of  class-subordination  redound  to  their 
own  injury,  and  how  much  happier  may  be  their  future  rep- 
resentatives having  social  positions  less  prominent  ?  Occa- 
sionally recognizing,  though  they  do,  certain  indirect  evils 
attending  their  supremacy,  they  do  not  see  that  by  accumula- 
tion these  indirect  evils  constitute  a  penalty  which  supremacy 
brings  on  them.  Though  they  repeat  the  trite  reflection  that 
riches  fail  to  purchase  content,  they  do  not  draw  the  inference 
tliat  there  must  be  something  wrong  in  a  system  which  thus 
deludes  them.  Yoii  hear  it  from  time  to  time  admitted  that 
great  wealth  is  a  heavy  bvu'den  :  the  life  of  a  rich  peer  being 
descriljcd  as  made  like  the  life  of  an  attorney  by  the  extent  of 
his  affairs.  You  observe  among  those  whose  large  means  and 
various  estates  enable  them  to  multiply  their  a])iiliances  to 
gratification,  that  every  new  a])])liaTice  becomes  an  additional 
somelliing  to  be  bjoked  after,  and  adds  to  tlie  jiossibilities  of 
vexation.  Further,  if  you  put  together  iho.  <)])(>n  confessions 
and  tlie  tacit  admissions,  you  lind  that,  a])art  from  these  anxie- 
ties and  annoyancfs,  thokind  of  life  which  riches  and  liononrs 
bring  is  not  a  satisfactory  life- its  inside  dill'crs  ininicn.scly 
from  its  outside.     In  candid  moments  the  "social  treadmill" 


THE   CLASS-BIAS.  235 

is  complained  of  by  those  who  nevertheless  think  themselves 
compelled  to  keep  up  its  monotonous  round.  As  everyone 
may  see,  fashionable  life  is  passed,  not  in  being  happy,  but  in 
playing  at  being  hapi)y.  And  yet  the  manifest  corollary  is 
not  drawn  by  those  engaged  in  this  life. 

To  an  outsider  it  is  obvious  that  the  benefits  obtained  by 
the  regulative  classes  of  our  day,  through  the  existing  form  of 
social  organization,  are  full  of  disguised  evils ;  and  that  this 
undue  wealth  which  makes  possible  the  passing  of  idle  lives 
brings  dissatisfactions  in  place  of  the  satisfactions  expected. 
Just  as  in  feudal  times  the  appliances  for  safety  were  the  ac- 
companiments to  a  social  state  that  brought  a  more  than 
equivalent  danger;  so,  now,  the  excess  of  aids  to  pleasure 
among  the  rich  is  the  accompaniment  of  a  social  state  that 
brings  a  counterbalancing  displeasure.  The  gratifications 
reached  by  those  who  make  the  pursuit  of  gratifications  a 
business,  dwindle  to  a  minimum ;  while  the  trouble,  and 
weariness,  and  vexation,  and  jealousy,  and  disappointment, 
rise  to  a  maximum.  That  this  is  an  inevitable  result  any 

one  may  see  v/ho  studies  the  psychology  of  the  matter.  The 
pleasure-hunting  life  fails  for  the  reason  that  it  leaves  large 
parts  of  the  nature  unexercised :  it  neglects  the  satisfactions 
gained  by  successful  activity,  and  there  is  missing  from  it  the 
serene  consciousness  of  services  rendered  to  others.  Egoistic 
enjoyments  continuously  pursued,  pall  because  the  appetites 
for  them  are  satiated  in  times  much  shorter  than  our  waking 
lives  give  us :  leaving  times  that  are  either  empty  or  spent  in 
efforts  to  get  enjoyment  after  desire  has  ceased.  They  pall 
also  from  the  want  of  that  broad  contrast  which  arises  when  a 
moiety  of  life  is  actively  occupied.  These  negative  causes  of 
dissatisfaction  are  joined  with  the  positive  cause  indicated — 
the  absence  of  that  content  gained  by  successful  achievement. 
One  of  the  most  massive  and  enduring  gratifications  is  the 
sense  of  personal  worth,  ever  afresh  demonstrating  itself  to 
consciousness  by  effectual  action ;  and  an  idle  life  is  balked 
of  its  hopes  partly  because  it  lacks  this.  Lastly,  the  implied 
nesrlect  of  altruistic  activities,  or  of  activities  felt  to  be  in  some 
way  serviceable  to  others,  brings  kindred  evils — a  deficiency 
of  certain,  positive  pleasures  of  a  high  order,  not  easily  ex- 
hausted, and  a  further  falling-back  on  egoistic  pleasures,  again 


236  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

tending'  towards  satiety.  And  all  this,  with  its  resulting'  wear- 
iness and  discontent,  we  may  trace  to  a  social  organization 
under  which  there  comes  to  the  regulating  classes  a  share  of 
produce  great  enough  to  make  possible  large  accumulations 
that  support  useless  descendants. 

The  bias  of  the  wealthy  in  ^favour  of  arrangements  ajjpar- 
ently  so  conducive  to  their  comforts  and  pleasures,  while  it 
shuts  out  the  perception  of  these  indirect  penalties  brought 
round  on  them  by  their  seeming  advantages,  also  shuts  out 
the  perception  that  there  is  anything  mean  in  being  a  useless 
consumer  of  things  which  others  produce.  Contrariwise, 
there  still  survives,  though  much  weakened,  the  belief  that  it 
is  honourable  to  do  nothing  but  seek  enjo;y^nent,  and  relatively 
dishonourable  to  pass  life  in  supplying'  others  with  the  means 
to  enjoyment.  In  this,  as  in  other  things,  our  temporary  state 
brings  a  temporary  standai'd  of  honour  apjirupriate  to  it ;  and 
the  accompanying  sentiments  and  ideas  exclude  the  concep- 
tion of  a  state  in  which  what  is  now  thought  admirable  will 
be  thought  disgraceful.  Yet  it  needs  only,  as  before,  to 

aid  imagination  by  studying  other  times  and  other  societies, 
remote  in  nature  from  our  own,  to  see  at  least  the  possibility 
of  this.  When  we  contrast  the  feeling  of  the  Fijians,  among 
whom  a  man  has  a  restless  ambition  to  be  acknowledged  as  a 
murderer,  with  the  feeling  among  civilized  races,  who  shrink 
with  horror  from  a  murderer,  we  get  undeniable  proof  that 
men  in  one  social  state  pride  themselves  in  characters  and 
deeds  elsewhere  held  in  the  gi*eatest  detestation.  Seeing 
which,  we  may  infer  that  just  as  the  Fijians,  believing  in  tlie 
ho7iourablenoss  of  murder,  are  regarded  by  us  with  aslonisli- 
ment ;  .so  tho.se  of  our  own  day  who  pride  themselves  in  con- 
suming much  and  producing  notliing,  and  who  care  little  for 
the  well-being  of  their  society  so  long  :is  it  sup])lies  them 
good  diiiiH»rs,  soft  beds,  and  ])]casant  l<)nngiiig-})laces,  may  bo 
regjirded  with  astonislunent  by  men  of  times  to  come,  living 
under  biglier  social  fornis.  Nay,  we  may  sec  not  merely 

the  possibility  of  sucli  a  change  in  .sentiment,  but  tlie  prob- 
ability. Observe,  first,  the  feeling  still  extant  in  China,  where 
the  honourableness  of  doing  nothing,  more  strongly  held  than 
liere,  makes  tlu!  wealthy  wc;ir  tlieir  nails  .so  long  that  they 
liave  to  bo  tied  back  out  of  the  way,  and  makes  the  ladies 


THE   CLASS-BIAS.  237 

submit  to  prolonged  tortures  that  their  crushed  feet  may  show 
their  incapacity  for  work.  Next,  remember  that  in  genera- 
tions gone  by,  botli  hei'c  and  on  the  Continent,  tlie  disgrace- 
fubiess  of  trade  was  an  article  of  faith  among  the  upper 
classes,  maintained  very  strenuously.  Noav  mark  how  mem- 
bers of  the  landed  class  are  going  into  business,  and  even 
sons  of  peers  becoming  professional  men  and  merchants ;  and 
observe  among  the  wealthy  the  feeling  that  men  of  their 
order  have  public  duties  to  perform,  and  that  the  absolutely- 
idle  among  them  are  blameworthy.  Clearly,  then,  we  have 
grounds  for  inferring  that,  along  with  the  progress  to  a  regu- 
lative organization  higher  than  the  present,  there  will  be  a 
change  of  the  kind  indicated  in  the  conception  of  honour. 
It  will  become  a  matter  of  wonder  that  there  should  ever 
have  existed  those  who  thought  it  admirable  to  enjoy  with- 
out working,  at  the  expense  of  others  who  worked  without 
enjoying. 

But  the  temporarily-adapted  mental  state  of  the  ruling  and 
employing  classes,  keeps  out,  more  or  less  effectually,  thoughts 
and  feelings  of  these  kinds.  Habituated  from  childhood  to 
the  forms  of  subordination  at  present  existing — regarding 
these  as  parts  of  a  natui'al  and  perinanent  order — fuiding  satis- 
faction in  suj^remacy,  and  conveniences  in  the  possession  of 
authority ;  the  regulators  of  all  kinds  remain  unconscious 
that  this  system,  made  necessary  as  it  is  by  the  defects  of  ex- 
isting human  nature,  brings  round  penalties  on  themselves  as 
well  as  on  those  subordinate  to  them,  and  that  its  pervading 
theory  of  life  is  as  mistaken  as  it  is  ignoble. 

Enough  has  been  said  to  show  that  from  the  class-bias  arise 
further  obstacles  to  right  thinking  in  Sociology.  As  a  part  of 
some  general  division  of  his  community,  and  again  as  a  part 
of  some  special  sub-division,  the  citizen  acquires  adapted  feel- 
ings and  ideas  which  inevitably  influence  his  conclusions 
about  public  affairs.  They  atFect  alike  his  conceptions  of  the 
past,  his  interpretations  of  the  present,  his  anticipations  of  the 
future. 

Members  of  the  regulated  classes,  kept  in  relations  more  or 
less  antagoiaistic  with  the  classes  regulating  them,  are  thereby 
hindered  from  seeing  the  need  for,  and  the  benefits  of,  this 


2C8  TUE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

organization  ■which,  seems  the  cause  of  their  grievances  ;  they 
are  at  the  same  time  hindered  from  seeing  the  need  for,  and 
the  benefits  of,  those  harsher  forms  of  industrial  regulation 
that  existed  during  past  times ;  and  they  are  also  hindered 
from  seeing  that  the  improved  industi'ial  organizations  of  the 
future,  can  come  only  through  improvements  in  their  OAvn 
nat'ores.  On  the  otlier  hand,  members  of  the  regulating 
classes,  while  i^artially  blinded  to  the  facts  that  the  defects  of 
the  vrorking-classes  are  the  defects  of  natures  like  their  own 
placed  under  different  conditions,  and  that  the  existing  sys- 
tem is  defensible,  not  for  its  convenience  to  tliemselves,  but  as 
being  the  best  now  practicable  for  the  community  at  large ; 
are  also  partially  blinded  to  the  vices  of  past  social  arrange- 
ments, and  to  the  badness  of  those  who  in  past  social  systems 
used  class-power  less  mercifully  than  it  is  used  now ;  while 
they  have  difficulty  in  seeing  that  the  present  social  order,  like 
past  social  orders,  is  but  transitory,  and  that  the  regulating 
classes  of  the  future  may  have,  with  diminished  power,  in- 
creased happiness. 

Unfortunately  for  the  Social  Science,  the  class-bias,  like 
the  bias  of  patriotism,  is,  in  a  degree,  needful  for  social  pres- 
ervation. It  is  like  in  this,  too,  that  escape  from  its  influ- 
ence is  often  only  effected  by  an  eii'ort  that  carries  belief  to 
an  opposite  extreme — changing  approval  into  a  disapproval 
that  is  entire  instead  of  partial.  Hence  in  the  one  case,  as  in 
the  other,  vv^e  must  infer  that  the  resulting  obstacle  to  well- 
balanced  conclusions,  can  become  less  only  as  social  evolution 
becomes  greater. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE   POLITICAL   BIAS. 

Every  day  brings  events  that  show  the  politician  what  the 
events  of  the  next  day  are  likely  to  be,  while  they  serve  also 
as  materials  for  the  student  of  Social  Science.  Scarcely  a 
journal  can  be  read,  that  does  not  supply  a  fact  which,  be- 
yond the  proximate  implication  seized  by  the  party-tactician, 
has  an  ultimate  implication  of  value  to  the  sociologist.  Thus 
a  propos  of  political  bias,  I  am,  while  writing,  fiu-nished  by 
an  Irish  paper  with  an  extreme  instance.  Speaking  of  the 
late  Ministerial  defeat,  the  Nation  says : — 

"  Mr,  Gladstone  and  his  administration  are  hurled  from  power,  and 
the  iniquitous  attempt  to  sow  broadcast  the  seed  of  irreligion  and  in- 
fidelity in  Ireland  has  recoiled  with  the  impact  of  a  thunderbolt  upon 
its  authors.  The  men  who  so  long  beguiled  the  ear  of  Ireland  with 
specious  promises,  who  mocked  us  with  sham  reforms  and  insulted  us 
with  barren  concessions,  who  traded  on  the  grievances  of  this  countr/ 
only  to  aggravate  them,  and  who,  with  smooth  professions  on  tlieir 
lips,  trampled  out  the  last  traces  of  liberty  in  the  land,  are  to-day  a 
beaten  and  outcast  party." 

Which  exhibition  of  feeling  we  may  either  consider  specially, 
as  showing  how  the  "  Nationalists  "  are  likely  to  behave  in 
the  immecHate  future;  or  may  consider  more  generally,  as 
giving  us  a  ti-ait  of  Irish  nature  tending  to  justify  Mr.  Fronde's 
liarsh  verdict  on  Irish  conduct  in  the  past ;  or  may  consider 
most  generally,  after  the  manner  here  appropriate,  as  a  strik- 
ing example  of  the  distortions  which  the  political  bias  works 
in  men's  judgments. 

When  we  remember  that  all  are  thus  affected  more  or  less, 
in  estimating  antagonists,  their  acts,  and  their  views,  we  are 
reminded  what  an  immense  obstacle  political  partizanship  is 
17  239 


240  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

in  the  way  of  Social  Science.  I  do  not  mean  simply  that,  as 
all  know,  it  often  determines  opinions  about  pending  ques- 
tions ;  as  sho\vn  by  cases  in  which  a  measure  reprobated  by 
Conservatives  when  brought  forward  by  Libei'als,  is  approved 
when  brought  forward  by  their  own  party.  I  refer  to  the  far 
wider  effect  it  has  on  men's  interpretations  of  the  past  and  of 
the  future  ;  and  therefore  on  their  sociological  conceptions  in 
general.  The  political  sympathies  and  antipathies  fostered  by 
the  conflicts  of  parties,  respectively  upholding  this  or  that 
kind  of  institution,  become  sympathies  and  antipathies  drawn 
out  towards  allied  institutions  of  other  nations,  extinct  or  sur- 
viving. These  sympathies  and  antipathies  inevitably  cause 
tendencies  to  accept  or  reject  favourable  or  unfavorable  evi- 
dence respecting  such  institutions.  The  well-known  contrast 
between  the  pictures  which  the  Tory  Mitford  and  the  Radical 
Grote  have  given  of  the  Athenian  democracy,  serves  as  an  in- 
stance to  which  many  parallels  may  be  found.  In  proof  of 
the  perverting  effects  of  the  political  bias,  I  cannot  do  better 
than  quote  some  sentences  from  Mr.  Froude's  lecture  on  '"  The 
Scientific  Method  applied  to  History." 

"  Thucydides  wrote  to  expose  the  vices  of  democracy ;  Tacitus,  the 
historian  of  the  Ca3sars,  to  exhibit  the  hatefuhiess  of  Imperialism." ' 

"  Read  Macaulay  on  the  condition  of  the  English  poor  before  the 
last  century  or  two,  and  you  wonder  how  they  lived  at  all.  Read 
Cobbett,  and  I  may  even  say  Ilallam,  and  you  wonder  how  they  en- 
dure the  contrast  between  their  past  prosperity  and  their  present 
misery."  * 

"  An  Irish  Catholic  prelate  once  told  me  that  to  his  certain  knowl- 
edge two  millions  of  men,  women,  and  cliildrcn  had  died  in  the  groat 
famine  of  1846.  I  asked  him  if  he  was  not  including  those  who  had 
emigrated.  He  repeated  that  over  and  above  the  emigration  two  mill- 
ions liad  actually  died;  and  added,  '  wc  might  assert  that  everyone 
of  these  deatlis  lay  at  the  door  of  the  English  Government.'  I  men- 
tioned this  to  a  distinguished  lawyer  in  Dublin,  a  Protestant.  His 
grey  eyes  lighted  up.  He  replied :  'Did  he  i^Hy  two  millions  now — 
did  he?  VVliy  tlierc  were  not  a  thousand  died — there  were  not  five 
liundred.'  The  true  number,  so  far  as  can  bo  gal  hercd  from  a  com- 
parison (if  the  census  of  1H41  with  the  census  of  1851,  from  the  emi- 
grutioii  returns,  which  were  carefully  made,  and  frmii  an  allowance  for 
the  natural  rate  of  JMcrcasr',  was  abnut  two  luiiidrcil  thousand."^ 

Further  iiisistancc  on  tJiis  point  is  ueedlcss.     'I'iiat  the  ver- 


THE   POLITICAL  BIAS.  241 

diets  which  will  be  given  by  different  party-journals  upon 
each  ministerial  act  may  be  predicted,  and  that  the  opposite 
opinions  uttered  by  speakers  and  applauded  by  meetings  con- 
cerning the  same  measure,  may  be  foreseen  if  the  political 
bias  is  known  ;  are  facts  from  which  any  one  may  infer  that 
the  party  politician  must  have  his  feelings  greatly  moderated 
before  he  can  interpret,  with  even  approximate  truth,  the 
events  of  the  past,  and  draw  correct  inferences  respecting  the 
future. 

Here,  instead  of  dilating  on  this  truth,  I  will  call  attention 
to  kindred  truths  that  are  less  conspicuous.  Beyond  those 
kinds  of  political  bias  indicated  by  the  names  of  political 
parties,  there  are  certain  kinds  of  political  bias  transcending 
party-limits.  Already  in  the  chapter  on  "Subjective  Diffi- 
culties— Emotional,"  I  have  commented  on  the  feeling  which 
originates  them — the  feeling  drawn  out  towards  the  govern- 
ing agency.  In  addition  to  what  was  there  said  respecting 
the  general  effects  of  this  feeling  on  sociological  inquiry, 
something  must  be  said  about  its  special  effects.  And  first, 
let  us  contemplate  a  common  fallacy  in  men's  opinions  about 
human  affairs,  which  pervades  the  several  fallacies  fostered  by 
the  political  bias. 

Results  are  proportionate  to  appliances — see  here  the  tacit 
assumption  underlying  many  errors  in  the  conduct  of  life, 
private  and  public.  In  private  life  everyone  discovers  the  un- 
truth of  this  assumption,  and  yet  continues  to  act  as  though 
he  had  not  discovered  its  untruth.  Reconsider  a  moment, 
under  this  fresh  aspect,  a  familiar  experience  lately  dwelt 
upon. 

"  How  happy  I  shall  be,"  thinks  the  child,  "  when  I  am  as 
old  as  my  big  brother,  and  own  all  the  many  things  he  will 
not  let  me  have."  "How  happy,"  the  big  brother  thinks, 
"  shall  I  be  when,  like  my  father,  I  have  got  a  house  of  my 
own  and  can  do  as  I  like."  "  How  happy  I  shall  be,"  thinks 
the  father,  "  when,  achieving  the  success  in  prospect,  I  have 
got  a  large  income,  a  country  house,  carriages,  horses,  and  a 
higher  social  position."  And  yet  at  each  stage  the  possession 
of  the  mucli-desired  aids  to  satisfaction  does  not  bring  all  the 
happiness  expected,  and  brings  many  annoyances. 


242  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

A  good  example  of  the  fallacy  that  results  are  proportion- 
ate to  appliances,  is  furnished  by  domestic  service.  It  is  an 
inference  naturally  drawn  that  if  one  servant  does  so  much, 
two  servants  will  do  twice  as  much  ;  and  so  on.  But  when 
this  common-sense  theory  is  tested  by  practice,  the  results  are 
quite  at  variance  with  it.  Not  simply  does  the  amount  of  serv- 
ice performed  fail  to  increase  in  proportion  to  the  number  of 
servants,  but  frequently  it  decreases  :  fewer  servants  do  more 
work  and  do  it  better. 

Take,  again,  the  relation  of  books  to  knowledge.  The  nat- 
ural assumption  is  that  one  who  has  stores  of  information  at 
hand  will  become  well-informed.  And  yet,  very  generally, 
when  a  man  begins  to  accumulate  books  he  ceases  to  make 
much  use  of  them.  The  filling  of  his  shelves  with  volumes 
and  the  filling  of  his  brain  with  facts,  are  processes  apt  to  go 
on  with  inverse  rapidities.  It  is  a  trite  remark  that  those  who 
have  become  distinguished  for  their  learning,  have  often  been 
those  who  had  gi*eat  difficulties  in  getting  books.  Here,  too, 
the  results  are  quite  out  of  proportion  to  the  apjjliances. 

Similarly  if  we  go  a  step  further  in  the  same  direction — not 
thinking  of  books  as  aids  to  information,  but  thinking  of  in- 
formation as  an  aid  to  guidance.  Do  we  find  that  the  quan- 
tity of  acquirement  measures  the  qutintity  of  insight  ?  Is  the 
amoiuit  of  cardinal  truth  reached  to  be  inferred  from  the  mass 
of  collected  facts  that  serve  as  appliances  for  reaching  it  ?  By 
no  means.  Wisdom  and  information  do  not  vary  together. 
Tliough  there  must  be  data  before  there  can  be  generalization, 
yet  ungeneralized  data  accximulated  in  excess,  are  impedi- 
ments to  generalization.  "Wlien  a  man's  knowledge  is  not  in 
order,  tlie  more  of  it  he  lias  the  greater  will  be  his  confusion 
of  thouglit.  When  facts  are  not  organized  inlo  faculty,  the 
greater  the  mass  of  tliem  the  more  will  the  mind  stagger 
along  under  its  burden,  hampered  instead  of  lielped  by  its 
acquisiti(ms.  A  .student  may  become  a  very  Daniel  Lanibert 
of  learning,  and  nMnain  utterly  useless  l<i  himself  and  all 
others.  Neither  in  this  case,  then,  are  results  projjortionate  to 
aj)i)liances. 

It  is  so,  too,  with  disci])line,  and  w  itli  tlic  agencies  estab- 
lished for  discipline.  Take,  as  .in  inslanct",  lh(>  use  of  lan- 
guage.    i"'n)in  his  early  days  (he  hoy  whose  father  can  tiU'ortl 


THE  POLITICAL  BIAS.  243 

to  give  him  the  fashionable  education,  is  drilled  in  grammar, 
practised  in  parsing,  tested  in  detecting  errors  of  spcecli.  After 
his  public-school  career,  during  which  words,  their  meanings, 
and  tlieir  right  applications,  almost  exclusively  occupy  him, 
he  passes  through  a  University  where  a  large,  and  often  the 
larger,  part  of  his  attention  is  still  given  to  literary  culture- 
models  of  style  in  prose  and  poetry  being  daily  before  him. 
So  much  for  the  preparation ;  now  for  the  performance.  It  is 
notorious  that  commentators  on  the  classics  are  among  the 
most  slovenly  writers  of  English.  Readers  of  Punch  will  re- 
member how,  years  ago,  the  Pi'ovost  and  Head-Master  of 
Eton  were  made  to  furnish  food  for  laughter  by  quotations 
from  a  letter  they  had  published.  Recently  the  Head-Master 
of  Winchester  has  given  us,  in  entire  unconsciousness  of  its 
gi'oss  defects,  a  samj^le  of  the  English  which  long  study  of 
language  produces.  If  from  these  teachers,  who  are  literally 
the  select  of  the  select,  we  turn  to  men  otherwise  selected, 
mostly  out  of  the  same  highly-disciplined  class — men  who  are 
distilled  into  the  House  of  Commons,  and  then  re-distilled  into 
the  Ministry,  we  are  again  disappointed.  Just  as  in  the  last 
generation,  Royal  Speeches  drawn  up  by  those  so  laboriously 
trained  in  the  right  use  of  words,  furnished  for  an  English 
grammar  examples  of  blunders  to  be  avoided  ;  so  in  the  pres- 
ent generation,  a  work  on  style  might  fitly  take  from  these 
documents  which  our  Government  annually  lays  before  all 
the  world,  warning  instances  of  confusions,  and  illogicalities, 
and  pleonasms.  And  then  on  looking  at  the  performances  of 
men  not  thus  elaborately  prepared,  we  are  still  more  struck  by 
the  seeming  anomaly.  How  great  the  anomaly  is,  we  may 
best  see  by  supposing  some  of  our  undisciplined  authors  to 
use  expressions  like  those  used  by  the  disciplined.  Imagine 
the  self-made  Cobbett  deliberately  saying,  as  is  said  in  the  last 
Royal  Speech,  that — 

"I  have  kept  in  vieiv  t\\Q  double  object  of  an  equitable  regard  to 
existing  circumstances,  and  of  securing  a  general  provision  more 
permanent  in  its  character,  and  resting  on  a  reciprocal  and  equal  iasis, 
for  the  commercial  and  maritime  transactions  of  the  two  countries."* 
Imagine  the  poet  who  had  "  little  Latin  and  less  Greek,"  giv- 
ing the  order  that — 

"No  such  address  shall  be  delivered  in  any  place  wliere  the  assem- 


244  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

blage  of  persons  to  hear  the  same  may  cause  obstruction  to  the  use  of 
any  road  or  walk  by  the  public."  * 

— an  order  which  occurs,  along  with  half-a-dozen  lax  and  su- 
perfluous phrases,  in  the  eighteen  lines  announcing  the  minis- 
terial retreat  from  tlie  Hyde-Park  contest.  Imagine  the 
ploughman  Burns,  like  one  of  our  scholars  who  has  been 
chosen  to  direct  the  education  of  gentlemen's  sons,  expressing 
himself  in  print  thus — 

"  I  should  not  have  troubled  you  with  this  detail  (which  was,  in- 
deed, needless  in  my  former  letter)  if  it  was  not  that  I  may  appear  to 
have  laid  a  stress  upon  the  dates  which  the  boy's  accident  has  pre- 
vented me  from  being  able  to  claim  to  do.'"* 

Imagine  Bunyan,  the  tinker,  publishing  such  a  sentence  as 
this,  written  by  one  of  our  bishops  : — 

"  If  the  546  gentlemen  who  signed  the  protest  on  the  subject  of 
deaconesses  had  thought  proper  to  object  to  my  having  formally 
licensed  a  deaconess  in  the  parish  of  Dilton's  Marsh,  or  to  what  they 
speak  of  when  they  say  that '  recognition  had  been  made '  (I  presume 
on  a  report  of  which  no  part  or  portion  was  adopted  by  resolution  of 
the  Synod) '  as  to  sisters  living  together  in  a  more  conventual  manner 
and  under  stricter  rule,'  I  should  not  have  thought  it  necessary  to  do 
more  than  receive  with  silent  respect  the  expression  of  their  opinion  ; " 
&c.,  &C.'' 

Or,  to  cite  for  comparison  modern  self-educated  writers,  im- 
agine such  a  sentence  coming  from  Hugh  Miller,  or  Alexander 
Smith,  or  Gerald  Massey,  or  "  the  Norwich  weaver-boy  "  (W. 
J.  Fox),  or  "  the  Journeyman  Engineer."  Shall  we  then  say 
that  in  the  case  of  literary  culture,  results  ai"e  proportionate  to 
appliances  ?  or  shall  we  not  rather  say  tliat,  as  in  other  cases, 
the  relation  is  by  no  means  so  sini])lc  a  one. 

Nowhere,  then,  do  we  find  verified  this  assumption  which 
we  are  so  prone  to  make.  Quantity  of  effect  does  not  vary  as 
quantity  of  means.  From  a  mechanical  ai)])aratus  up  to  an 
educational  system  or  a  social  institution,  the  same  truth 
holds.  Tai<c  a  riislic  to  see  a  new  machine,  and  his  admiration 
of  it  will  be  in  proportion  to  the  multiplicity  of  its  j)arts. 
Listen  to  tlie  criticism  of  a  .skilled  engineer,  and  you  find  tliat 
from  all  tliis  coiniilic.-ition  be  inf(>rs  ])robablo  failure.  Not 
elaljoration  but  siniplilication  is  his  aim:  knowing,  as  ho 
docs,  that  every  additional  wheel  or  lever  implies  inertia  and 


THE  POLITICAL  BIAS.  245 

friction  to  be  overcome,  and  occasional  derangement  to  be  recti- 
fied. It  is  thus  everywhere.  Up  to  a  certain  point  appliances 
are  needful  for  results ;  but  beyond  that  point,  results  decrease 
as  appliances  increase. 

This  undue  belief  in  appliances,  joined  with  the  general 
bias  citizens  inevitably  have  in  favour  of  governmental  agen- 
cies, prompts  the  multiplication  of  laws.  It  fosters  the  notion 
that  a  society  will  be  the  better  the  more  its  actions  are  every- 
where regulated  by  artificial  instrumentalities.  And  the  efi^ect 
produced  on  sociological  speculation  is,  that  the  benefits 
achieved  by  laws  are  exaggerated,  while  the  evils  they  entail 
are  overlooked. 

Brought  to  bear  on  so  immensely-complicated  an  aggregate 
as  a  society,  a  law  rarely,  if  ever,  produces  as  much  direct 
etfect  as  was  expected,  and  invariably  produces  indirect  effects, 
many  in  their  kinds  and  great  in  their  sum,  that  were  not  ex- 
pected. It  is  so  even  with  fundamental  changes  :  witness  the 
two  we  have  seen  in  the  constitution  of  our  House  of  Com- 
mons. Both  advocates  and  opponents  of  the  first  Eeform  Bill 
anticipated  that  the  middle  classes  would  select  as  representa- 
tives many  of  their  own  body.  But  both  were  wroiig.  The 
class-quality  of  the  House  of  Commons  remained  very  much 
what  it  was  before.  While,  however,  the  immediate  and  spe- 
cial result  looked  for  did  not  appear,  there  were  vast  remote 
and  general  results  foreseen  by  no  one.  So,  too,  with  the  re- 
cent change.  We  had  eloquently-uttered  warnings  that  dele- 
gates from  the  working-classes  would  swamp  the  House  of 
Commons  ;  and  nearly  everyone  expected  that,  at  any  rate,  a 
sprinkling  of  working-class  members  would  be  chosen.  Again 
all  were  wrong.  The  conspicuous  alteration  looked  for  has 
not  occurred ;  but,  nevertheless,  governmental  actions  have 
already  been  much  modified  by  the  raised  sense  of  responsi- 
bility. It  is  thus  always.  No  pi'ophecy  is  safer  than  that  the 
results  anticipated  from  a  law  will  be  greatly  exceeded  in 
amount  by  results  not  anticipated.  Even  simple  physical  ac- 
tions might  suggest  to  us  this  conclusion.  Let  us  contem- 
plate one. 

You  see  that  this  wrought-iron  plate  is  not  quite  flat :  it 
sticks  up  a  little  here  towards  tlie  left — "  cockles,"  as  we  say. 


246  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

How  shall  we  flatten  it  ?  Obvioixsly,  you  reply,  by  hitting 
down  on  the  part  that  is  prominent.  Well,  here  is  a  hammer, 
and  I  g'ive  the  plate  a  blow  as  you  advise.  Harder,  you  say. 
Still  no  effect.  Another  stroke  ?  Well,  there  is  one,  and  an- 
other, and  another.  The  prominence  remains,  you  see :  the 
evil  is  as  great  as  ever — greater,  indeed.  But  this  is  not  all. 
Look  at  the  warp  which  the  plate  has  got  near  the  opposite 
edge.  Where  it  was  flat  before  it  is  now  curved.  A  pretty 
bungle  we  have  made  of  it.  Instead  of  curing  the  original 
defect,  we  have  produced  a  second.  Had  we  asked  an  artizan 
practised  in  "  planishing,"  as  it  is  called,  he  would  have  told 
us  that  no  good  was  to  be  done,  but  only  mischief,  by  hitting 
down  on  the  projecting  part.  He  would  have  taught  us  how 
to  give  variously-directed  and  specially-adjusted  blows  with 
a  hammer  elsewhere  :  so  attacking  the  evil  not  by  direct  but 
by  indirect  actions.  The  required  process  is  less  simple  than 
you  thought.  Even  a  sheet  of  metal  is  not  to  be  successfully 
dealt  with  after  those  common-sense  methods  in  which  you 
have  so  much  confidence.  What,  tlien,  shall  we  say  about  a 
society  ?  "  Do  you  think  I  am  easier  to  be  played  on  than  a 
pipe  ? "  asks  Hamlet.  Is  humanity  more  readily  straightened 
than  an  non  plate  ? 

Many,  I  doubt  not,  failing  to  recognize  the  truth  that  in 
proportion  as  an  aggregate  is  complex,  the  effects  wrought  by 
an  incident  force  becomes  more  multitudinous,  confused,  and 
incalculable,  and  that  tlierefore  a  society  is  of  all  kinds  of  ag- 
gregates the  kind  most  difficult  to  affect  in  an  intended  way 
and  not  in  unintended  ways — many  such  will  ask  evidence  of 
the  difficulty.  Response  Avould  perhaps  be  easier  were  the 
evidence  less  abundant.  It  is  so  familiar  as  seemingly  to 
have  lost  its  significance;  just  as  perpotually-repentcd  saluta- 
tions and  prayers  have  done.  The  preamble  to  nearly  every 
Act  of  Parliament  supplies  it;  in  the  report  of  every  commis- 
sion it  is  ])n'scn<od  in  various  forms;  and  for  anyone  asking 
instances,  the  direction  might  be — Hansard  pasf^itn.  Here  I 
will  give  but  a  single  example  which  might  teach  certain  rash 
enthusiasts  of  our  day,  were  they  teachable.  I  refer  to  meas- 
ures for  the  snp])rossion  of  drimkonness. 

Not  to  dwell  on  the  results  of  the  Maine  Law.  which,  as  I 
know  from  one  wlio.sc  pei-sonal  experience  verified  current 


THE   POLITICAL   BIAS.  247 

statements,  prevents  the  obtainmcnt  of  stimulants  by  travel- 
lers in  urgent  need  of  them,  but  does  not  prevent  secret  drink- 
ing by  residents — not  to  dwell,  either,  upon  the  rigorous 
measures  taken  in  Scotland  in  1G17,  "for  the  restraint  of  the 
vile  and  detestable  vice  of  drunkenness  daily  increasing,"  but 
which  evidently  did  not  produce  the  hoped-for  effect ;  I  will 
limit  mj^self  to  the  case  of  the  Licensing  Act,  9  Geo.  II.,  ch. 
23,  for  arresting  the  sale  of  spirituous  liquors  (chiefly  gin)  by 
prohibitory  licences. 

'*  Within  a  few  months  after  it  passed,  Tindal  tells  us,  the  commis- 
sioners of  excise  themselves  became  sensible  of  the  impossibihty  or 
unadvisableness  of  carrying  it  rigorously  into  execution.  *  *  * 
Smollett,  who  has  drawn  so  dark  a  picture  of  the  state  of  things  the 
act  was  designed  to  put  down,  has  painted  in  colours  equally  strong 
the  mischiefs  which  it  produced : — '  The  populace,'  he  writes,  '  soon 
broke  through  all  restraint.  Though  no  licence  was  obtained  and  no 
duty  paid,  the  liquor  continued  to  be  sold  in  all  corners  of  the  streets; 
informers  were  intimidated  by  the  threats  of  the  people ;  and  the  jus- 
tices of  the  peace,  either  from  indolence  or  corruption,  neglected  to 
put  the  law^  in  execution.'  In  fact,  in  course  of  time,  '  it  appeared,'  he 
adds,  '  that  the  consumption  of  gin  had  considerably  increased  every 
year  since  those  heavy  duties  were  imposed.'  "  * 

When,  in  1743,  this  Act  was  repealed,  it  was  shown  during 
the  debates  that — 

"The  quantity  of  gin  distilled  in  England,  which,  in  1684,  when 
the  business  was  introduced  into  this  country,  had  been  527,000  gal- 
lons, had  risen  to  948,000  in  1694,  to  1,375,000  in  1704,  to  2,000,000  in 
1714,  to  3,520.000  in  1724,  to  4,947,000  in  1734,  and  to  not  less  than 
7,160,000  in  1742.  *  *  *  '  Retailers  were  deterred  from  vending 
them  [spirituous  liquors]  by  the  utmost  encouragement  that  could  be 
given  to  informers.  *  *  *  The  prospect  of  raising  money  by  de- 
tecting their  [unlicensed  retailers']  practices  incited  many  to  turn 
information  into  a  trade ;  and  the  facility  with  which  the  crime  was 
to  be  proved  encouraged  some  to  gratify  their  malice  by  perjury,  and 
others  their  avarice ;  so  that  the  multitude  of  informations  became  a 
public  grievance,  and  the  magistrates  themselves  complained  that  the 
law  was  not  to  be  executed.  The  perjuries  of  informers  were  now  so 
flagrant  and  common,  that  the  people  thought  all  informations  ma- 
licious ;  or.  at  least,  thinking  themselves  oppressed  by  the  law,  they 
looked  upon  every  man  that  promoted  its  execution  as  their  enemy ; 
und  therefore  now  began  to  declare  war  against  informers,  many  of 


248  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

■whom  they  treated  with  great  cruelty,  and  some  they  murdered  in 
the  streets.' " » 

Here,  then,  with  absence  of  the  looked-for  benefit  there 
■went  production  of  unlooked-for  e^vdls,  vast  in  amount.  To 
recur  to  our  figure,  the  original  ■v\'arp,  instead  of  being  made 
less  by  these  direct  blo^ws,  was  made  greater  ;  while  other  dis- 
tortions, serious  in  kind  and  degree,  were  created.  And  be- 
yond the  encouragement  of  fraud,  lying,  malice,  cruelty, 
mui'der,  contempt  of  law,  and  the  other  conspicuous  crooked- 
nesses named,  multitudinous  minor  twists  of  sentiment  and 
thought  were  caused  or  augmented.  An  indirect  demoraliza- 
tion was  added  to  a  direct  increase  of  the  vice  aimed  at. 

Joining  with  the  prevalent  fallacy  that  results  are  propor- 
tionate to  appliances,  the  general  political  bias  has  the  further 
efPect  of  fostering  an  undue  faith  in  political  forms.  This 
tendency  to  ascribe  everything  to  a  visible  proximate  agency, 
and  to  forget  tlie  hidden  forces  without  which  the  agency  is 
worthless — this  tendency  which  makes  the  child  gazing  at  a 
steam-engine  suppose  that  all  is  done  by  the  combination  of 
parts  it  sees,  not  recognizing  the  fact  that  the  engine  is  power- 
less without  the  steam-generating  boiler,  and  the  boiler  power- 
less without  the  water  and  the  burning  fuel,  is  a  tendency 
which  leads  citizens  to  think  that  good  government  can  be 
had  by  shaping  public  arrangements  in  this  way  or  that  way. 
Let  us  frame  our  state-machinciy  rightly,  they  urge,  and  all 
will  be  well. 

Yet  this  belief  in  the  innate  virtues  of  constitutions  is  as 
baseless  as  was  the  belief  in  the  natural  superiorities  of  royal 
personages.  Just,  a.s  of  old,  loyalty  to  ruling  men  ko]it  alive 
a  faith  in  their  powers  and  virtues,  notwitbstanding  poi-petual 
disproofs ;  so,  in  these  modern  days,  loyalty  to  constitutional 
forms  keeps  alive  this  faith  in  their  intrinsic  worth,  spite  of  re- 
curring deinojistrations  thattlieir  worth  is  entirely  conditional. 
That  tlioso  forms  only  are  ellicient  which  have  grown  natural- 
ly out  of  character,  and  that  in  the  absence  of  fit  cliaracter 
forms  artificially  obtained  will  be  inoperative,  is  well  shown 
by  the  govern  n  km  its  of  trading  cor])()rations.  Let  us  contem- 
plate a  ty])ical  instance  of  this  govcrimicnt. 

The  propi-icturs  of  a  certain  railway  (I  am  here  giving  my 


THE  POLITICAL  BIAS.  249 

personal  experience  as  one  of  tlicm)  were  summoned  to  a 
special  meeting.  The  notice  calling:  them  together  stated  that 
the  directors  had  agreed  to  lease  their  line  to  another  com- 
pany ;  that  everything  had  been  settled ;  that  the  company 
taking  the  lease  was  then  in  possession ;  and  that  the  pro- 
prietors were  to  be  asked  for  their  approval  on  the  day  named 
in  the  notice.  The  meeting  took  place.  The  chairman  gave 
an  account  of  the  negotiation  and  of  the  agreement  entered 
into.  A  motion  expressing  approval  of  the  agreement  was 
proposed  and  to  some  extent  discussed — no  notice  whatever 
being  taken  of  the  extraordinary  conduct  of  the  board. 
Only  when  the  motion  was  about  to  be  put,  did  one  pro- 
prietor protest  against  the  astomiding  usurpation  which  the 
transaction  implied.  He  said  that  there  had  grown  up  a 
wrong  conception  of  the  relation  between  boards  of  directors 
and  bodies  of  proprietors  ;  that  directors  had  come  to  look  on 
themselves  as  supreme  and  proprietors  as  subordinate,  where- 
as, in  fact,  directors  were  simply  agents  appointed  to  act  in 
the  absence  of  their  principals,  the  proprietors,  and  remained 
subject  to  their  principals  ;  that  if,  in  any  private  business,  an 
absent  proprietor  received  from  his  manager  the  news  that  he 
had  leased  the  business,  that  the  person  taking  it  was  then  in 
possession,  and  that  the  proprietor's  signature  to  the  lease  was 
wanted,  his  prompt  return  would  be  followed  by  a  result  quite 
different  from  that  looked  for — namely,  a  dismissal  of  the 
manager  for  having  exceeded  his  duty  in  a  very  astonishing 
manner.  This  pi'otest  against  the  deliberate  trampling  down 
of  principles  recognized  by  the  constitutions  of  companies, 
met  with  no  response  whatever — not  a  solitary  sympathizer 
joined  in  the  protest,  even  in  a  qualified  form.  Not  only  was 
the  motion  of  approval  carried,  but  it  was  carried  without  any 
definite  knowledge  of  the  agreement  itself.  Nothing  more 
than  the  chairman's  verbal  description  was  vouchsafed :  no 
printed  copies  of  it  had  been  previously  circulated,  or  were  to 
be  had  at  the  meeting.  And  yet,  wonderful  to  relate,  this 
proprietary  body  had  been  already  once  betrayed  by  an  agree- 
ment with  this  same  leasing  company  ! — had  been  led  to  un- 
dertake the  making  of  the  line  on  the  strength  of  a  seeming 
guarantee  which  proved  to  be  no  guarantee  !  See,  then, 

the  lesson.     The  constitution  of  this  company,  like  that  of 


250  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

companies  in  general,  was  purely  democratic.  The  proprietors 
elected  their  directors,  the  directors  their  chairman  ;  and  there 
were  special  provisions  for  restraining  directors  and  replacing 
them  when  needfvd.  Yet  these  forms  of  free  government  had 
fallen  into  disuse.  And  it  is  thus  in  all  cases.  Save  on  occa- 
sions when  some  scandalous  mismanagement,  or  corruption 
bringing  gi^eat  loss,  has  caused  a  revolutionary  excitement 
among  them,  railway-proprietors  do  not  exercise  their  powers. 
Retiring  directors  being  re-elected  as  a  matter  of  form,  the 
board  becomes  practically  a  close  body ;  usually  some  one 
member,  often  the  chairman,  acquires  supremacy;  and  so  the 
government  lapses  into  something  between  oligarchy  and 
monarchy.  All  this,  observe,  happening  not  exceptionally  but 
as  a  rule,  happens  among  bodies  of  men  mostly  well  educated, 
and  many  highly  educated — people  of  means,  mei'chants,  law- 
yers, clergymen,  &c.  Ample  disproof,  if  there  needed  any,  of 
the  notion  that  men  are  to  be  fitted  for  the  right  exercise  of 
power  by  teaching. 

And  now  to  return.  Anyone  who  looks  through  these 
facts  and  facts  akin  to  them  for  the  truth  they  imply,  may  see 
that  forms  of  government  are  valuable  only  where  tliey  are 
products  of  national  character.  No  cunningly-devised  polit- 
ical arrangements  will  of  themselves  do  anything.  No 
amount  of  knowledge  respecting  the  uses  of  such  arrange- 
ments will  suffice.  Nothing  will  suffice  but  the  emotional 
nature  to  which  such  arrangements  are  adapted — a  nature 
which,  during  social  pi'ogress,  has  evolved  the  arrangements. 
And  wherever  there  is  want  of  congi-uity  between  tlie  nature 
and  the  arrangements — wherever  the  arrangements,  suddenly 
established  by  revolution  or  puslied  too  far  by  reforming 
change,  are  of  a  higher  type  than  the  national  character  de- 
mands, there  is  always  a  lapse  proportionate  to  the  incongru- 
ity. In  proof  I  might  enumerate  the  illustrations  that  lie 
scattered  through  the  modern  hislorios  of  Greece,  of  South 
America,  of  Mexico.  Or  I  might  dwell  on  tlie  lesson  (bofore 
briefly  referred  to)  presented  us  in  Fi'ance  ;  where  the  political 
cycle  shows  us  again  and  again  that  new  Democracy  is  but 
old  Despotism  dillerently  si)elt— where  now,  as  heretofore,  wo 
find  Lihcrtr,  I'jjalilc,  FratcrniU;  conspicuous  on  the  jmblic 
building.s,  and  now,  us  herelufore,  have  for  interpretations  of 


THE   POLITICAL  BIAS.  251 

these  words  the  cxtremest  party-hatreds,  vituperations  and 
actual  assaults  in  the  Assembly,  wholesale  arrests  of  men  un- 
friendly to  those  in  power,  forbiddings  of  public  meetings, 
and  suppressions  of  journals ;  and  where  now,  as  heretofoi^e, 
writers  professing  to  be  ardent  advocates  of  political  freedom, 
rejoice  in  these  acts  which  shackle  and  gag  their  antagonists. 
But  I  will  take,  instead,  a  case  more  nearly  allied  to  our  own. 
For  less  strikingly,  and  in  other  ways,  but  still  with  suffi- 
cient clearness,  this  same  truth  is  disj^layed  in  the  United 
States.  I  do  not  refer  only  to  such  extreme  illustrations  of  it 
as  were  at  one  time  furnished  in  California ;  where,  along 
with  that  complete  political  freedom  which  some  think  the 
sole  requisite  for  social  welfare,  most  men  lived  in  perpetual 
fear  for  their  lives,  while  others  prided  themselves  on  the 
notches  which  marked,  on  the  hilts  of  their  pistols,  the  num- 
bers of  men  they  had  killed.  Nor  will  I  dwell  on  the  state  of 
society  existing  under  republican  forms  in  the  West,  where  a 
white  woman  is  burned  to  death  for  marrying  a  negro,  where 
secret  gangs  murder  in  the  night  men  whose  conduct  they 
dislike,  where  mobs  stop  trains  to  lynch  offending  persons 
contained  in  them,  where  the  carrying  of  a  revolver  is  a 
matter  of  course,  where  judges  are  intimidated  and  the  execu- 
tion of  justice  often  impracticable.  I  do  but  name  these  as 
extreme  instances  of  the  way  in  which,  under  institutions  that 
nominally  secure  men  from  opj)ression,  they  may  be  intoler- 
ably oppressed — unable  to  utter  their  opinions  and  to  conduct 
their  private  lives  as  they  please.  Without  going  so  far,  we 
may  find  in  the  Eastern  states  proof  enough  that  the  forms  of 
liberty  and  the  reality  of  liberty  are  not  necessarily  commen- 
surate. A  state  of  things  under  which  men  administer  justice 
in  their  own  cases,  are  applauded  for  so  doing,  and  mostly  ac- 
quitted if  tried,  is  a  state  of  things  which  has,  in  so  far,  retro- 
graded towards  a  less  civilized  state ;  for  one  of  the  cardinal 
traits  of  political  progress  is  the  gradual  disappearance  of  per- 
sonal retaliation,  and  the  increasing  supremacy  of  a  ruling 
power  which  settles  the  differences  between  individuals  and 
punishes  aggressors.  And  in  proportion  as  this  ruling  power 
is  enfeebled  the  security  of  individuals  is  lessened.  How  se- 
curity, lessened  in  this  general  way,  is  lessened  in  more  special 
ways,  we  see  in  the  bribery  of  judges,  in  the  financial  frauds 


252  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

by  which  many  are  robbed  without  possibility  of  remedy,  in 
the  corruptness  of  New  York  administration,  which,  taxing  so 
heavily,  does  so  little.  And,  under  another  aspect,  we  see  the 
like  in  the  doings  of  legislative  bodies — in  the  unfair  advan- 
tages which  some  individuals  gain  over  others  by  "lobbying," 
in  Credit-Mobilier  briberies,  and  the  like.  "While  the  outside 
form  of  free  government  remains,  there  has  grown  up  within 
it  a  reality  which  makes  government  not  free.  The  body  of 
professional  politicians,  entering  public  life  to  get  incomes, 
organizing  their  forces  and  develoj)ing  their  tactics,  have,  in 
fact,  come  to  be  a  ruling  class  quite  different  from  that  which 
the  constitution  intended  to  secure ;  and  a  class  having  inter- 
ests by  no  means  identical  with  public  interests.  This 
worship  of  the  appliances  to  liberty  in  place  of  liberty  itself, 
needs  continually  exposing.  There  is  no  intrinsic  virtue  in 
votes.  The  possession  of  representatives  is  not  itself  a  benefit. 
These  are  but  means  to  an  end ;  and  the  end  is  the  mainte- 
nance of  those  conditions  under  which  each  citizen  may  carry 
on  his  life  without  further  hindrances  from  other  citizens  than 
are  involved  by  their  equal  claims — is  the  securing  to  each 
citizen  all  such  beneficial  results  of  his  activities  as  his  activi- 
ties naturally  bring.  The  worth  of  tlie  means  must  be  meas- 
lu-ed  by  the  degree  in  which  this  end  is  achieved.  A  citizen 
nominally  having  complete  means  and  but  partially  securing 
the  end,  is  less  free  than  another  who  uses  incomplete  means 
to  more  purpose. 

But  why  go  abroad  for  proofs  of  the  truth  that  political 
forms  are  of  worth  only  in  proportion  as  they  are  vitalized  by 
national  character  ?  We  have  proofs  at  home.  I  do  not 
mean  tliose  furnished  by  past  constitutional  history— I  do  not 
merely  refer  to  those  many  facts  sliowing  us  that  the  nominal 
power  of  our  representative  body  became  an  actual  power 
only  by  degrees;  and  that  the  theoretically-independent 
House  of  Commons  took  coiiturios  to  osca]ie  from  regal  and 
aristocratic  sway,  and  cstiibli.sh  a  ))ractical  iiuioiK'iuk'nco.  I 
refer  to  tlie  present  time,  and  to  actions  of  our  representative 
body  in  tlie  plenitude  of  its  power.  This  assembly  of  deputies 
cliosen  by  large  coiistituciicies,  and  tliercfore  so  well  (itted,  as 
it  would  seem,  for  guarding  llie  individual  of  whatever  grade 
against  trespasses  upon  his  individuality,  nevertheless  itself 


THE   POLITICAL  BIAS.  253 

authorizes  new  trespasses  upon  his  individuality.  A  popular 
government  has  established,  without  the  slightest  hindrance, 
an  official  organization  that  treats  with  contempt  the  essential 
principles  of  constitutional  rule ;  and  since  it  has  been  made 
still  more  popular,  has  deliberately  approved  and  maintained 
this  organization.  Here  is  a  brief  account  of  the  steps  leading 
to  these  results. 

On  the  20th  June,  1864,  just  before  2  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, there  was  read  a  first  time  an  Act  giving,  in  some  locali- 
ties, certain  new  powers  to  the  police.  On  the  27th  of  that 
month,  it  was  read  a  second  time,  entirely  without  comment — 
at  what  hour  Hansard  does  not  show.  Just  before  2  o'clock 
in  the  morning  on  June  30th,  there  was  appointed,  without 
remark,  a  Select  Committee  to  consider  this  proposed.  Act. 
On  the  15th  July  the  Report  of  this  Committee  was  received. 
On  the  19th  the  Bill  was  re-committed,  and  the  Report  on  it 
received — all  in  silence.  On  the  20th  July  it  was  considered 
— still  in  silence — as  amended.  And  on  the  21st  July  it  was 
read  a  third  time  and  passed — equally  in  silence.  Taken  next 
day  to  the  House  of  Lords,  it  there,  in  silence  no  less  profound, 
passed  through  all  its  stages  in  four  days  (?  thi-ee).  This  Act 
not  proving  strong  enough  to  meet  the  views  of  naval  and 
military  officers  (who,  according  to  the  testimony  of  one  of 
the  Select  Committee,  were  the  promoters  of  it),  was,  in  1866, 
"amended."  At  1  o'clock  in  the  morning  on  March  16th  of 
that  year,  the  Act  amending  it  was  read  a  first  time ;  and  it 
was  read  a  second  time  on  the  22nd,  when  the  Secretary  of 
the  Admiralty,  describing  it  as  an  Act  to  secure  the  better 
health  of  soldiers  and  sailors,  said  "  it  was  intended  to  renew 
an  Act  passed  in  1864,  with  additional  powers."  And  now, 
for  the  first  time,  there  came  brief  adverse  remarks  from  two 
members.  On  April  9th  there  was  appointed  a  Select  Com- 
mittee, consisting  mainly  of  the  same  members  as  the  previous 
one — predominantly  state-officers  of  one  class  or  other.  On 
the  20th,  the  Report  of  the  Committee  was  received.  On  the 
26th,  the  Bill  was  re-committed  just  before  2  o'clock  in  the 
morning ;  and  on  the  Report  there  came  some  short  com- 
ments, which  were,  however,  protested  against  on  the  ground 
that  the  Bill  was  not  to  be  publicly  discussed.  And  here  ob- 
serve the  reception  given  to  the  only  direct  opposition  raised. 


254:  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

When,  to  qualify  a  clause  defining'  the  powers  of  the  police,  it 
"was  proposed  to  add,  "  that  tlie  justices  before  whom  such  in- 
formation shall  be  made,  shall  in  all  cases  require  corrobora- 
tive testimony  and  support  thereof,  other  than  that  of  the 
members  of  the  police  force,"  this  qualification  was  negatived 
without  a  word.  Finally,  this  Act  was  approved  and  made 
more  stringent  by  the  present  House  of  Commons  in  1S69. 

And  now  what  was  this  Act,  passed  the  fu'st  time  ab- 
solutely without  comment,  and  passed  in  its  so-called  amended 
form  with  but  the  briefest  comments,  made  under  protest  that 
comments  were  interdicted  ?  What  was  this  measure,  so 
conspicuously  right  that  discussion  of  it  was  thought  super- 
fluous ?  It  was  a  measm'8  by  which,  in  certain  localities, 
one-half  of  the  people  were  brought  under  the  summary 
jurisdiction  of  magistrates,  in  respect  of  certain  acts  charged 
against  them.  Fiu'ther,  those  by  whom  they  were  to  be 
charged,  and  by  whose  unsupported  testimony  charges  were 
to  be  proved,  were  agents  of  the  law,  looking  for  promotion  as 
the  reward  of  vigilance — agents  placed  under  a  permanent 
temptation  to  make  and  substantiate  charges.  And  yet  more, 
the  substantiation  of  charges  Avas  made  comparatively  easy, 
by  requiring  only  a  single  local  magistrate  to  be  convinced, 
by  the  testimony  on  oath  of  one  of  these  agents  of  the  law, 
that  a  person  cliarged  was  guilty  of  the  alleged  acts — acts 
which,  held  to  be  tlius  proved,  were  punished  by  periodic 
examinations  of  a  repulsive  kind  and  forced  inclusion  in  a 
degraded  class.  A  House  of  Commons  elected  by  large  con- 
stituencies, many  of  them  chiefly  composed  of  woi'king-men, 
sliowed  the  greatest  alacrity  in  making  a  law  under  which, 
in  sundry  districts,  the  liberty  of  a  working-man's  wife  or 
daugliter  remains  intact,  only  so  long  as  a  detective  does  not 
give  evidence  which  leads  a  magistrate  to  believe  her  a  pros- 
titute! And  this  Bill  which,  even  had  there  been  some 
urgent  need  (which  we  have  seen  there  was  not)  for  dispens- 
ing with  precautions  against  injustice,  sliould,  at  any  rate, 
liavo  been  passed  only  after  full  debate  and  anxious  criticism, 
was  passed  witli  every  effort  to  nuiintaiu  secrecy,  on  the 
I)rr'text  tliat  decency  forljude  discussion  of  it;  while  ^Mor- 
daunt-cases  and  tlic  like  were  l)eing  reported  with  a  fulness 
proportionate  to  tlie  amount   of  objectionable   detiiils   they 


THE   POLITICAL   BIAS.  255 

brought  out!  Nor  is  this  all.  Not  only  do  the  provisions 
of  the  Act  make  easy  the  establishment  of  charges  by  men 
who  are  placed  under  toiuptations  to  make  them;  but  those 
men  arc  guarded  against  penalties  apt  to  be  brought  on  th(>m 
by  abusing  their  powei*.  A  poor  woman  who  proceeds  against 
one  of  them  for  making  a  groundless  accusation  ruinous  to 
her  character,  does  so  with  this  risk  before  her;  that  if  she 
fails  to  get  a  verdict  slie  has  to  pay  the  defendant's  costs; 
whereas  a  verdict  in  her  favour  does  not  give  her  costs  :  only 
by  a  special  order  of  the  judge  does  she  get  costs  !  And  this 
is  the  "  even-handed  justice  "  provided  by  a  government  freer 
in  form  than  any  we  have  ever  had  ! '" 

Let  it  not  be  sup^josed  that  in  arguing  thus  I  am  implying 
til  at  forms  of  government  are  unimportant.  While  contend- 
ing that  they  are  of  value  only  in  so  far  as  a  national  charac- 
ter gives  life  to  them,  it  is  consistent  also  to  contend  that 
they  are  essential  as  agencies  through  which  that  national 
character  may  work  out  its  effects.  A  boy  cannot  wield  to 
purpose  an  implement  of  size  and  weight  fitted  to  the  hand 
of  a  man.  A  man  cannot  do  effective  work  with  a  boy's 
implement :  he  must  have  one  adapted  to  his  larger  grasp 
and  greater  strength.  To  each  the  implement  is  essential ; 
but  the  results  which  each  achieves  are  not  to  be  measured 
by  the  size  or  make  of  the  implement  alone,  but  by  its  adap- 
tation to  his  powers.  Similarly  with  political  instrumen- 
talities. It  is  possible  to  hold  that  a  political  instrumentality 
is  of  value  only  in  proportion  as  there  exists  a  strength  of 
character  needful  for  using  it,  and  at  the  same  time  to  hold 
that  a  fit  political  instrumentality  is  indispensable.  Here,  as 
before,  results  are  not  proportionate  to  appliances ;  but  they 
are  proportionate  to  the  force  for  due  operation  of  which 
cei'tain  api^liances  are  necessary. 

One  other  still  more  general  and  more  subtle  kind  of 
political  bias  has  to  be  guarded  against.  Beyond  that  excess 
of  faith  in  laws,  and  in  political  forms,  which  is  fostered  by 
awe  of  regulative  agencies,  there  is,  even  among  those  least 
swayed  by  this  awe,  a  vague  faith  in  the  immediate  possi- 
bility of  something  much  better  than  now  exists — a  tacit 
assumption  that,  even  with  men  as  they  are,  public  affairs 
18 


256  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

might  be  much  better  managed.  The  mental  attitude  of  such 
may  be  best  displayed  by  an  imaginary  conversation  between 
one  of  them  and  a  member  of  the  Legislature. 

"  Wlay  do  your  agents,  with  no  warrant  but  a  guess,  make 
this  surcharge  on  my  income-tax  return  ;  leaving  me  to  pay 
an  amount  that  is  not  due  and  to  establish  a  precedent  for 
future  like  payments,  or  else  to  lose  valuable  time  in  proving 
their  assessment  excessive,  and,  while  so  doing,  to  expose  my 
affairs  ?  You  require  me  to  choose  between  two  losses,  direct 
and  indirect,  for  the  sole  reason  that  your  assessor  fancies, 
or  professes  to  fancy,  that  I  have  under-stated  my  income. 
Wliy  do  you  allow  this  ?  Why  in  this  case  do  you  invert  the 
principle  Avhich,  in  cases  between  citizens,  you  hold  to  be  an 
equitable  one — the  principle  that  a  claim  must  be  proved  by 
him  who  makes  it,  not  disproved  by  him  against  whom  it  is 
made  ?  Is  it  in  pursuance  of  old  political  usages  that  you 
do  this  ?  Is  it  to  harmonize  with  the  practice  of  making  one 
whom  you  had  falsely  accused,  pay  the  costs  of  his  defence, 
altliough  in  suits  between  citizens  you  require  the  loser  to 
bear  all  the  expense  ? — a  practice  you  have  but  lately  re- 
li)H[uished.  Do  you  desire  to  keep  ix])  the  s])irit  of  the  good 
old  rulers  wlio  impressed  laboui'crs  and  paid  tliem  wliat  they 
pleased,  or  the  still  older  rulers  who  seized  whatever  they 
wanted  ?  Would  you  maintain  tliis  tradition  by  laying  hands 
on  as  much  as  possible  of  my  earnings  and  leaving  me  to  get 
part  back  if  I  can  :  expecting,  indeed,  that  I  sliall  submit  to 
the  loss  ratlier  than  undergo  the  worry,  and  hindrance,  and 
injury,  needful  to  recover  what  you  have  wrongfully  taken  ? 
I  was  brought  up  to  regard  tlie  Government  and  its  officers 
as  my  protectors;  and  now  T  Rnd  them  aggressors  against 
whom  I  liave  to  defend  myself." 

"What  would  you  have  ?  Our  agents  could  not  bring  for- 
ward proof  that  an  income-tax  return  was  less  tlian  it  shoukl 
be.  f^ithcr  the  ]m'S('nt  method  Tiiust  be  piu'sued,  or  the  tax 
must  be  abandoned." 

"  I  liave  no  concern  with  yom*  alternative.  T  have  merely 
to  point  out,  that  lirlwccn  m.ni  and  man  you  recognize  no 
such  ph^a.  When  a  plainlilV  makes  a  <'laini  but  cannot  ])ro- 
(luee  evidence,  you  (h)  not  make  the  defendant  sul)mit  if  he 
fails  to  .bhuw  tliat  tlie  claim  is  groundli'ss.     You  say  that  if 


THE   POLITICAL   BIAS.  257 

no  evidence  can  be  given,  nothing-  can  be  done.  Why  do  you 
ignore  this  principle  when  your  agent  makes  the  claim  ? 
Why  from  the  fountain  of  equity  comes  there  this  inequity  ? 
Is  it  to  maintain  consistency  with  that  system  of  criminal 
jurisprudence  under  which,  while  j^rofessing  to  hold  a  man 
innocent  till  proved  guilty,  you  treat  him  before  trial  like  a 
convict — as  you  did  Dr.  Hessel  ?  Are  your  views  really 
represented  by  these  Middlesex  magistrates  you  have  ap- 
pointed, who  see  no  hardships  to  a  man  of  culture  in  the 
seclusion  of  a  prison-cell,  and  the  subjection  to  prison-rules, 
on  the  mere  suspicion  that  he  has  committed  a  murder  ? " 

"  The  magistrates  held  that  the  rules  allowed  them  to  make 
no  distinctions.  You  would  not  introduce  class-legislation 
into  j)rison-discipline  ? " 

"  I  remember  that  was  one  of  the  excuses ;  and  I  cheerfully 
give  credit  to  tliis  endeavour  to  treat  all  classes  alike.  I  do  so 
the  more  cheerfully  because  this  application  of  the  principle 
of  equality  diilers  much  from  those  which  you  ordinarily 
make — as  when,  on  discliarging  some  of  your  well-paid  of- 
ficials who  have  held  sinecures,  you  give  them  large  pensions, 
for  the  reason,  I  suppose,  that  their  expensive  styles  of  living 
have  disabled  them  from  saving  anything ;  while,  when  you 
discharge  dock-yard  labourers,  you  do  not  give  them  compen- 
sation, for  the  reason,  I  suppose,  that  out  of  weekly  wages  it  is 
easy  to  accumulate  a  competence.  This,  however,  by  the  way, 
I  am  here  concerned  with  that  action  of  your  judicial  system 
which  makes  it  an  aggressor  on  citizens,  whether  rich  or  poor, 
instead  of  a  protector.  The  instances  I  have  given  are  but 
trivial  instances  of  its  general  operation.  Law  is  still  a  name 
of  dread,  as  it  was  in  past  times.  My  legal  adviser,  being  my 
friend,  strongly  recommends  me  not  to  seek  your  aid  in  re- 
covering property  fraudulently  taken  from  me ;  and  I  per- 
ceive, from  their  remarks,  that  my  acquaintances  would  pity 
me  as  a  lost  man  if  I  got  into  your  Court  of  Equity.  Whether 
active  or  passive,  I  am  in  danger.  Your  arrangements  are 
such  that  I  may  be  pecuniarily  knocked  on  the  head  by  some 
one  who  pretends  I  have  injured  his  proi)erty.  I  have  the 
alternative  of  letting  my  pocket  be  picked  by  the  scamp  who 
makes  this  baseless  allegation  in  the  li()])(^  of  being  paid  to 
desist,  or  of  meeting  the  allegation   in   Chancery,  and  there 


258  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

letting  my  pocket  be  picked,  probably  to  a  still  greater  extent, 
by  your  agencies.  Nay,  when  you  have,  as  you  profess,  done 
me  justice  by  giving  me  a  verdict  and  condemning  the  scamp 
to  pay  costs,  I  find  I  may  still  be  ruined  by  having  to  pay 
f  my  own  costs  if  he  has  no  means.  To  make  your  sj'stem  con- 
gruous throughout,  it  only  needs  that,  when  I  call  him  to  save 
me  from  the  foot-pad,  youi*  policeman  should  deal  me  still 
heavier  blows  than  the  foot-pad  did,  and  empty  my  purse  of 
what  remains  in  it.'' 

"  Why  so  impatient  ?  Are  we  not  going  to  reform  it  all  ? 
Was  it  not  last  session  proposed  to  make  a  Court  of  Appellate 
Jurisdiction  by  appointing  four  j)eers  with  salaries  of  £7000 
each  ?  And  has  there  not  been  brought  forwai'd  this  ses- 
sion, even  quite  early,  a  Governmcnt-measm'e  for  prevent- 
ing the  conflict  of  Law  and  Equity,  and  for  facilitating  ap- 
peals ? " 

"  Thanks  in  advance  for  the  improvement.  When  I  have 
failed  to  ruin  myself  by  a  lirst  suit,  it  will  bo  a  consolation  to 
think  that  I  can  complete  my  ruin  by  a  second  with  less  delay 
than  heretofore.  Meanwhile,  instead  of  facilitating  appeals, 
which  you  seem  to  think  of  primary  importance,  I  should  be 
ol)liged  if  you  would  diminish  tlie  occasion  for  appeals,  by 
making  your  laws  such  as  it  is  possible  for  me  to  know,  or  at 
any  rate,  such  as  it  is  possible  for  your  judges  to  know ;  and  I 
should  be  further  ol^liged  if  you  would  give  me  easier  reme- 
dies against  aggressions,  instead  of  remedies  so  costly,  so  de- 
ceptive, so  dangerous,  that  I  prefer  suffering  the  aggressions 
in  silence.  Daily  I  experience  the  futility  of  your  system.  I 
start  on  a  journey  expecting  tlial  in  confonnity  with  the  ad- 
vertised times,  I  shall  just  be  able  to  reach  a  certain  distant 
town  before  night;  but  the  train  being  an  liour  late  at  one  of 
the  junctioiLs,  I  am  defeated — am  put  to  the  cost  of  a  night 
spent  on  tlie  way  and  lose  half  the  next  day.  I  ])ai(l  for  a 
first-chuss  seat  tl:;it  I  niiLrht  liave  space,  comfort,  and  imohjec- 
tional)h'  fellow-travel k^i's ;  but,  sto])))ing  at  a  town  where  a 
fair  is  going  on,  the  guard,  on  the  ))l('a  lliat  the  tliird-class 
carriages  are  full,  thrusts  into  the  conipMrtincnt  more  persons 
than  tlicic  arc  jdaccs  lor.  wlio,  both  by  behaviour  and  odour, 
are  repulsive^.  Thus  in  two  ways  I  am  defrauded.  For  ]>art 
of  the  fraud  I  liav(!  no  remedy;  and   for  the  rest  my  remedy, 


/ 

THE   POLITICAL   BIAS,  259 

doubtful  at  best,  is  i)racliccilly  unav^uilable.  Is  the  reply  thiit 
against  the  alleged  breach  of  contract  as  to  time,  the  com- 
pany has  guarded  itself,  or  professes  to  have  guarded  itself, 
by  disclaiming  responsibility  ?  The  allowing  such  a  dis- 
claimer is  one  of  your  countless  negligences.  You  do  not 
allow  me  to  plead  irresponsibility  if  I  give  the  company  bad 
money,  or  if,  having  bought  a  ticket  for  the  second  class,  I 
travel  in  the  first.  On  my  side  you  regard  the  contract  as 
quite  definite ;  but  on  the  other  side  you  practically  allow  the 
contract  to  remain  undefined.  And  now  see  the  ge^ieral  efi'ects 
of  your  carelessness.  Scarcely  any  trains  keep  their  times ; 
and  the  result  of  chronic  unpunctuality  is  a  multiplication  of 
accidents  with  increased  loss  of  life." 

"How  about  laissez-faire  f  I  thought  your  notion  was 
that  the  less  Government  meddled  with  these  thinjrs  the 
better ;  and  now  you  complain  that  the  law  does  not  secure 
your  comfort  in  a  railway-carriage  and  see  that  you  are  de- 
livered at  your  journey's  end  in  due  time.  I  suppose  you  ap- 
proved of  tlie  proposal  made  in  the  House  last  session,  tliat 
companies  should  be  compelled  to  give  foot-warmers  to  sec- 
ond-class passengers." 

"  Really  you  amaze  me.  I  should  have  thought  that  not 
even  ordinary  intelligence,  much  less  select  legislative  intelli- 
gence, would  have  fallen  into  such  a  confusion.  I  am  not 
blaming  you  for  failing  to  secure  me  comfort  or  punctuality. 
I  am  blaming  you  for  failing  to  enforce  contracts.  Just  as 
strongly  as  I  protest  against  your  neglect  in  letting  a  com- 
pany take  my  money  and  then  not  give  me  all  I  paid  for ;  so 
strongly  should  I  protest  did  you  dictate  how  much  conven- 
ience should  be  given  me  for  so  much  money.  Surely  I  need 
not  remind  you  that  your  civil  law  in  general  jiroceeds  on  the 
principle  that  the  goodness  or  badness  of  a  bargain  is  the 
affair  of  those  who  make  it,  not  your  affair ;  but  that  it  is 
your  duty  to  enforce  the  bargain  when  made.  Only  in  pro- 
portion as  this  is  done  can  men's  lives  in  society  be  main- 
tained. The  condition  to  all  life,  human  or  other,  is  that 
effort  put  forth  shall  bring  the  means  of  repairing  the  parts 
wasted  by  effort — shall  bring,  too,  more  or  less  of  surplus.  A 
creature  that  continuously  expends  energy  without  return  in 
nutriment  dies ;  and  a  creature  is  indirectly  killed  by  any- 


260  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

thiug'  Avliich,  after  energies  have  been  expended,  habitually 
intercepts  the  return.  This  holds  of  associated  human  beings 
as  of  all  other  beings.  In  a  society,  most  citizens  do  not  ob- 
tain sustenance  directly  by  the  powers  they  exert,  but  do  it 
indirectly :  each  gives  the  produce  of  his  powei's  exerted  in 
his  special  way,  in  exchange  for  the  produce  of  other  mens 
powers  exerted  in  other  ways.  The  condition  under  which 
only  this  obtaining  of  sustenance  to  replace  the  matter  wasted 
by  effort,  can  be  carried  on  in  society,  is  fulfilment  of  con- 
tract. Non-fulfilment  of  contract  is  letting  energ}"  be  ex- 
pended in  expectation  of  a  return,  and  then  withholding  the 
return.  Maintenance  of  contract,  therefore,  is  maintenance 
of  the  fundamental  principle  of  all  life,  under  the  form  given 
to  it  by  social  arrangements.  I  blame  you  because  you  do  not 
maintain  this  fundamental  principle ;  and,  as  a  consequence, 
allow  life  to  be  impeded  and  sacrificed  in  countless  indirect 
ways.  You  are,  I  admit,  solicitous  about  my  life  as  endan- 
gered by  my  own  acts.  Though  you  very  inadequately  guard 
me  against  injuries  from  others,  you  seem  particulai'ly  anx- 
ious that  I  shall  not  injure  myself.  Emulating  Sir  Peter 
Laurie,  who  made  himself  famous  by  threatening  to  'put 
down  suicide,'  you  do  what  you  can  to  prevent  me  from  risk- 
ing my  limbs.  Your  great  care  of  me  is  shown,  for  in.stance, 
by  enforcing  a  bye-law  which  forbids  me  to  leave  a  railway- 
train  in  motion ;  and  if  I  jump  out,  I  find  that  whether  I  hurt 
my.self  or  not,  you  decide  to  hurt  me — by  a  fine."  Not  only 
do  you  thus  punish  me  when  I  run  the  risk  of  jmnishing  my- 
self;  but  your  amiable  anxiety  for  mj'  welfare  shows  itself  in 
taking  money  out  of  my  pocket  to  provide  me  with  various 
conveniences — baths  and  wash-houses,  for  example,  and  free 
access  to  l>ooks.  Out  of  my  jiockot,  did  I  say  ?  Not  always. 
Sometimes  out  of  tlie  pockets  of  tbo.se  least  able  to  alFox'd  it ; 
as  when,  from  poor  authors  who  lose  by  their  works,  you  de- 
mand gratis  copies  for  your  public  libraries,  that  I  and  others 
may  read  them  for  nothing — Dives  robl)ing  Lazarus  that  he 
Tnay  give  ahns  to  the  well-clad  !  But  these  many  things  you 
offer  are  things  I  do  not  ask  ;  and  you  will  not  elfectually 
provide  the  one  thing  1  do  aslc.  I  do  not  want  you  (o  ascer- 
tjiin  for  me  the  nature  of  the  Sun's  corona,  or  to  lind  a  noHh- 
west  pas.sago,  or  to  explore  the  bottom  of  th(>  sea;  but  T  do 


THE   POLITICAL   BIAS.  261 

want  you  to  insure  me  against  aggression,  by  making  the 
punishment  of  aggressors,  civil  as  well  as  criminal,  swift,  cer- 
tain, and  not  ruinous  to  complainants.  Instead  of  doing  this, 
you  persist  in  doing  other  things.  Instead  of  securing  me  tlio 
bread  due  to  my  eiforts,  you  give  me  a  stone — a  sculptured 
block  from  Ephesus.  I  am  quite  content  to  enjoy  only  what 
I  get  by  my  own  exertions,  and  to  have  only  that  information 
and  those  i)leasures  for  Avhich  I  pay.  I  am  quite  content  to 
suffer  the  evils  brought  on  me  by  my  own  defects — believing, 
indeed,  that  for  me  and  for  all  there  is  no  other  wholesome 
discipline.  But  you  fail  to  do  what  is  needed.  You  are 
careless  about  guaranteeing  me  the  unhindered  enjoyment 
of  the  benefits  my  efforts  have  purchased  ;  and  you  insist  on 
giving  me,  at  other  people's  expense,  benefits  my  efforts 
have  not  purchased,  and  on  saving  me  from  penalties  I  de- 
serve." 

"  You  are  unreasonable.  We  are  doing  our  best  with  the 
enormous  mass  of  business  brought  before  us  :  sitting  on  com- 
mittees, reading  evidence  and  reports,  debating  till  one  or  two 
in  the  morning.  Session  after  session  Ave  work  hard  at  all 
kinds  of  measures  for  the  public  welfare — devising  plans  for 
educating  the  people;  enacting  better  arrangements  for  the 
health  of  towns  ;  making  inquiries  into  the  impurity  of  rivers ; 
deliberating  on  plans  to  diminish  drunkenness;  prescribing 
modes  of  building  houses  that  tliey  may  not  fall ;  deputing 
commissioners  to  facilitate  emigration ;  and  so  on.  You  can 
go  to  no  place  that  does  not  show  signs  of  our  activity.  Here 
are  public  gardens  formed  by  our  local  lieutenants,  the  mu- 
nicipal bodies ;  here  are  lighthouses  we  have  put  up  to  prevent 
shipwrecks.  Everywhere  we  have  appointed  inspectors  to  see 
that  salubrity  is  maintained  ;  everywhere  there  are  vaccinators 
to  see  that  due  precautions  against  small-pox  are  observed  ; 
and  if,  happening  to  be  in  a  district  where  our  arrangements 
are  in  force,  your  desires  are  not  well  controlled,  we  do  our 
best  to  insure  you  a  healthy  " 

"Yes,  I  know  what  you  would  say.  It  is  all  of  a  piece 
with  the  rest  of  your  policy.  While  you  fail  to  protect  me 
against  others,  you  insist  on  protecting  me  against  myself. 
And  your  failure  to  do  the  essential  thing,  results  from  the 
absorption  of  your  time  in  doing  non-essential  things.     Do 


2G2  THE   STUDY   OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

you  think  that  your  beneficences  malj:e  up  for  the  injustices 
you  let  me  bear  ?  I  do  not  want  these  sops  and  gratuities ; 
but  I  do  want  security  against  trespasses,  direct  and  indirect 
— security  tliat  is  real  and  not  nominal.  See  the  predica- 
ment in  which  I  am  placed.  You  forbid  me  (quite  rightly 
I  admit)  to  administer  justice  on  my  own  behalf ;  and  you, 
profess  to  administer  it  for  me.  I  may  not  take  summary 
measm-es  to  resist  encroachment,  to  reclaim  my  own,  or  to 
seize  that  which  I  bargained  to  have  for  my  services :  you  tell 
me  that  I  must  demand  your  aid  to  enforce  my  claim.  But 
demanding  your  aid  commonly  brings  such  frightful  evils 
that  I  prefer  to  bear  the  wrong  done  me.  So  that,  practically, 
having  forbidden  me  to  defend  myself,  you  fail  to  defend  me. 
By  this  my  life  is  vitiated,  along  with  the  lives  of  citizens  in 
general.  All  transactions  are  impeded ;  time  and  labour  are 
lost ;  the  pinces  of  commodities  are  raised.  Honest  men  are 
defrauded,  while  rogues  thrive.  Debtors  outwit  their  cred- 
itors;  bankrupts  make  purses  by  their  failures  and  recom- 
mence on  larger  scales ;  and  financial  frauds  that  ruin  their 
thousands  go  unpunished." 

Thus  far  our  impatient  friend.  And  now  sec  how  luiten- 
able  is  his  position.  He  actually  supposes  that  it  is  possible 
to  get  government  conducted  on  rational  principles!  His 
tacit  assumption  is  that  out  of  a  community  morally  imper- 
fect and  intellectually  imperfect,  there  may  in  some  way  be 
had  legislative  regulation  that  is  not  proportionately  imper- 
fect !  He  is  under  a  delusion.  Not  by  any  kind  of  govern- 
ment, established  after  any  method,  can  the"  thing  be  done.  A 
good  and  wise  autocrat  cannot  be  chosen  or  otherwise  ob- 
laiiicd  l)y  a  poo])le  not  good  and  wise.  Goodness  and  wisdom 
will  not  characterize  the  successive  families  of  an  oligarcliy, 
arising  out  of  a  bad  and  foolish  people,  any  more  than  they 
will  characterize  a  line  of  kings.  Nor  will  any  system  of  rep- 
rcscnlalioii.  limited  or  universal,  direct  or  indirect,  do  more 
lliaii  I'cpnseut  the  average  nature  of  citizen.s.  To  dissipate  bis 
notion  that  truly-rational  government  can  bo  provided  for 
themselves  by  a  people  not  truly  rational,  ho  needs  but  to 
read  clcction-s])eeches  and  observe  how  votes  are  gaiiKMJ  by 
<'la])-trap  a]»i)fals  to  s<<nseless  pr(>judices  and  by  fostcM'ing 
hopes  of  inii)ossible  benefits,  while  votes  arc  lost  by  candid 


THE   POLITICAL  BIAS.  263 

statements  of  stern  truths  and  endeavours  to  dissipate  ground- 
less expectations.  Let  him  watch  the  process,  and  he  will 
see  that  when  the  fermenting  mass  of  political  passions  and 
beliefs  is  put  into  the  electoral  still,  there  distils  over  not  the 
wisdom  alone  but  the  folly  also — sometimes  in  the  larger 
proportion.  Nay,  if  he  watches  closely,  he  may  suspect  that 
not  only  is  the  corporate  conscience  lower  than  the  average 
individual  conscience,  but  the  corporate  intelligence  too.  The 
minority  of  the  wise  in  a  constituency  is  liable  to  be  wholly 
submerged  by  the  majority  of  the  foolish  :  often  foolishness 
alone  gets  represented.  In  the  representative  assembly,  again, 
the  many  mediocrities  practically  rule  the  few  superiorities  : 
the  superior  are  obliged  to  express  those  views  only  which  the 
rest  can  understand,  and  must  keep  to  themselves  their  best 
and  farthest-reaching  thoughts  as  thoughts  that  would  have 
no  weight.  He  needs  but  remember  that  abstract  principles 
are  pooh-poohed  in  the  House  of  Commons,  to  see  at  once 
that  while  the  unwisdom  expresses  itself  abundantly,  what  of 
highest  wisdom  there  may  be  has  to  keep  silence.  And  if  he 
asks  an  illustration  of  the  way  in  which  the  intelligence  of 
the  body  of  members  brings  out  a  result  lower  than  would 
the  intelligence  of  the  average  member,  he  may  see  one  in 
those  muddliiigs  of  provisions  and  confusions  of  language  in 
Acts  of  Parliament,  which  have  lately  been  calling  forth  pro- 
tests from  the  judges. 

Thus  the  assumption  that  it  is  possible  for  a  nation  to  get, 
in  the  shape  of  law,  something  like  embodied  reason,  when  it 
is  not  itself  pervaded  by  a  correlative  reasonableness,  is  im- 
probable a  priori  and  disproved  d  posteriori.  The  belief 
that  truly-good  legislation  and  administration  can  go  along 
with  a  humanity  not  truly  good,  is  a  chronic  delusion.  While 
our  own  form  of  government,  giving  means  for  expressing 
and  enforcing  claims,  is  the  best  form  yet  evolved  for  pre- 
venting aggressions  of  class  upon  class,  and  of  individuals  on 
one  another ;  yet  it  is  hopeless  to  expect  from  it,  any  more 
than  from  other  forms  of  government,  a  capacity  and  a  recti- 
tude greater  than  that  of  the  society  out  of  which  it  gTows. 
And  criticisms  like  the  foregoing,  which  imply  that  its  short- 
comings can  be  set  right  by  expostulating  with  existing  gov- 
erning agents  or  by  appointing  others,  imply  that  subtlest 


2Q4:  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

kind  of  political  bias  "which  is  apt  to  remain  when  the  stronger 
kinds  have  been  got  rid  of. 

Second  only  to  the  class-bias,  "we  may  say  that  the  political 
bias  most  seriously  distorts  sociological  conceptions.  That 
this  is  so  with  the  bias  of  political  party,  everyone  sees  in 
some  measure,  though  not  in  full  measui-e.  It  is  manifest  to 
the  Radical  that  the  prejudice  of  the  Tory  blinds  him  to  a 
present  evil  or  to  a  futui^e  good.  It  is  manifest  to  the  Tory 
that  the  Radical  does  not  see  the  benefit  there  is  in  that  which 
he  wishes  to  destroy,  and  fails  to  recognize  the  mischiefs  likely 
to  be  done  by  the  institution  he  would  establish.  But  neither 
imagines  that  the  other  is  no  less  needful  than  himself.  The 
Radical,  with  his  impracticable  ideal,  is  unaware  that  his  en- 
thusiasm will  serve  only  to  advance  things  a  little,  but  not  at 
all  as  he  expects  ;  and  he  will  not  admit  that  the  obstructive- 
ness  of  the  Tory  is  a  wholesome  check.  The  Tory,  doggedly 
resisting,  cannot  perceive  that  the  established  order  is  but 
relatively  good,  and  that  his  defence  of  it  is  simply  a  means  of 
preventing  premature  change  ;  while  he  fails  to  recognize  in 
the  bitter  antagonism  and  sanguine  hopes  of  the  Radical,  the 
agencies  without  wliich  there  could  be  no  progress.  Thus 
neither  fully  understands  his  own  function  or  the  function  of 
his  opponent ;  and  by  as  much  as  he  falls  short  of  understand- 
ing it,  he  is  disabled  from  understanding  social  phenomena. 

The  more  general  kinds  of  political  bias  distort  men's  socio- 
h)gical  conceptions  in  other  ways,  but  quite  as  seriously.  There 
is  this  perennial  delusion,  conmion  to  Radical  and  Tory,  that 
legislation  is  omnipotent,  and  that  things  will  get  done  because 
laws  are  passed  to  do  them  ;  there  is  this  coniidence  in  one  or 
other  form  of  governnuMit,  due  to  the  belief  that  a  gov(>rnin(Mit 
once  established  will  retain  its  form  and  work  as  was  inlended  ; 
there  is  this  hope  that  by  some  means  the  collective  wisdom 
can  be  separated  from  the  collective  folly,  and  set  over  it  in 
such  way  as  to  guid(^  things  aright; — all  of  them  implying 
that  general  political  bias  which  inevitably  coexists  with  sub- 
ijrdination  to  ])olitical  agencies.  The  (ffect  on  sociological 
sj)eculati(m  is  to  maintain  the  conce])ti()ii  of  a  society  as  some- 
thing manufactured  by  statesmen,  and  lo  liiiu  the  mind  fi-om 
tlir    phciioinciia    of  social    evolution.       W'liilr    tlic    regulating 


THE   POLITICAL  BIAS.  265 

agency  occupies  the  thoughts,  scarcely  any  attention  is  given 
to  those  astounding  pi'ocesses  and  results  due  to  the  energies 
regulated.  Tlie  genesis  of  the  vast  producing,  exchanging, 
and  distributing  agencies,  which  has  gone  on  spontaneously, 
often  hindered,  and  at  best  only  restrained,  by  governments, 
is  passed  over  with  unobservant  eyes.  And  thus,  by  continu- 
ally contemplating  the  power  which  keeps  in  order,  and  con- 
templating rarely,  if  at  all,  the  activities  kept  in  order,  there 
is  produced  an  extremely  one-sided  theory  of  Society. 

Clearly,  it  is  with  this  kind  of  bias  as  it  is  with  the  kinds 
of  bias  previously  considered — the  degree  of  it  bears  a  certain 
necessary  relation  to  the  temporary  phase  of  progress.  It  can 
diminish  only  as  fast  as  Society  advances.  A  well-balanced 
social  self-consciousness,  like  a  well-balanced  individual  self- 
consciousness,  is  the  accompaniment  of  a  high  evolution. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  THEOLOGICAL  BIAS. 

"  What  a  log  for  hell-fire ! "  exclaimed  a  Wahliabee,  on 
seeing  a  corpulent  Hindu.  This  illustration,  startling  by  its 
strength  of  expression,  which  Mr.  Gilford  Palgrave  gives  *  of 
the  belief  possessing  these  Mahommedan  fanatics,  prepares  us 
for  their  general  mode  of  thinking  abovit  God  and  man.  Here 
is  a  sample  of  it : — 

"  When  'Abd-el-Lateef,  a  Wahhabee,  was  preaching  one  day  to  the 
people  of  Riad,  he  recounted  tlic  tradition  accordinj^  to  which  Mahomet 
declared  that  his  followers  should  divide  into  seventy-three  sects,  and 
that  seventy-two  were  destined  to  hell-fire,  and  one  only  to  Paradise. 
'  And  what,  0  messenger  of  God,  are  the  signs  of  that  happy  sect  to 
which  is  ensured  the  exclusive  possession  of  Paradise?'  Whereto  Ma- 
homet had  replied,  '  It  is  those  who  shall  be  in  all  conformable  to  my- 
self and  to  my  companions.'  'And  that,'  added  'Abd-cl-Latecf,  low- 
ering his  voice  to  the  deep  tone  of  conviction,  '  that,  by  the  mercy  of 
God,  are  we,  the  people  of  Kiad.'"* 

For  present  jjui-poses  we  are  not  so  much  concerned  to  ob- 
serve the  parallelism  between  this  conception  and  the  concep- 
tions that  have  been,  and  are,  current  among  sects  of  Chins- 
tians,  as  to  observe  tlie  efforts  produced  hy  such  concoi)ti<ms 
on  men's  views  of  those  who  have  alien  b(diefs,  and  on  their 
views  of  alien  .societies.  What  extreme  misinterpretations  of 
social  facts  result  from  the  llicological  bias,  may  be  seen  still 
better  in  a  ca.se  even  mon^  remarkable. 

By  TiMMH'r,  by  Krskiiie,  and  by  the  tin  lulx-rs  of  tlie  United 
States'  E.\j)l()ring  Exju-ditiou,  the  cliaracters  of  the  Samoans 
are,  as  com]>ared  willi  the  characters  of  tiir  uncivilized  gener- 
ally, very  fav<)urMl)ly  descrilxMl.  Tluiu^^h.  in  common  Avilh 
savages  at  large,  tbt-y  ;irc  snid  to  be  "  indoJeut,  covetous,  fickle, 


THE  TEEOLOGICAL  BIAS.  267 

and  deceitful,"  yet  they  are  also  said  to  be  "  kind,  good-hu- 
moured, .  .  .  desirous  of  pleasing',  and  very  hospitable.  Both 
sexes  show  great  regard  and  love  for  their  children  ; "  and  age 
is  much  respected.  "A  man  cannot  bear  to  be  called  stingy 
or  disobliging."  Tlie  women  "are  remarkably  domestic  and 
virtuous."  Infanticide  after  birth  is  unknown  in  Samoa. 
"  The  treatment  of  the  sick  was  .  .  .  invariably  humane  and 
all  that  could  be  expected."  Observe,  now,  what  is  said 

of  their  cannibal  neighbours,  the  Fijians.  They  are  indiffer- 
ent to  human  life ;  they  live  in  perpetual  dread  of  one  an- 
other; and,  according  to  Jackson,  trcachia^y  is  considered  by 
them  an  accomplishment.  "  Shedding  of  blood  is  to  him  [the 
Fijian]  no  crime  but  a  glory."  They  kill  the  decrepit,  maimed, 
and  sick.  While,  on  the  one  hand,  infanticide  covers  nearer 
two-thirds  than  one-half  of  the  births,  on  the  other  hand,  "one 
of  the  first  lessons  taught  the  infant  is  to  strike  its  mother :  " 
anger  and  revenge  are  fostered.  Inferiors  are  killed  for  neg- 
lecting proper  salutes ;  slaves  are  buried  alive  with  the  posts 
on  which  a  king's  house  stands ;  and  ten  or  more  men  are 
slaughtered  on  the  decks  of  a  newly-launched  canoe,  to  bap- 
tize it  with  their  blood.  A  chief's  wives,  courtiers,  and  aides- 
de-camp,  are  strangled  at  his  death — being  thereby  honoured. 
Cannibalism  is  so  rampant  that  a  chief,  praising  his  deceased 
son,  ended  his  eulogy  by  saying  that  he  would  "  kill  his  own 
wives  if  they  offended  him,  and  eat  them  afterwards."  Vic- 
tims were  sometimes  roasted  alive  before  being  devoured  ;  and 
Tanoa,  one  of  their  chiefs,  cut  off  a  cousin's  arm,  drank  the 
blood,  cooked  the  arm  and  ate  it  in  presence  of  the  owner,  who 
was  then  cut  to  pieces.  Their  gods,  described  as  having  like 
characters,  commit  like  acts.  They  live  on  the  souls  of  those 
who  are  devoured  by  men,  having  first  "  roasted  "  them  (the 
"  souls  "  being  simply  material  duplicates).  They  "  are  proud 
and  revengeful,  and  make  war,  and  kill  and  eat  each  other  ; " 
and  among  the  names  of  honour  given  to  them  are  "the  adul- 
terer," "the  woman-stealer,"  "the  brain-eater,"  "the  mur- 
derer." Such  being  the  account  of  the  Samoans,  and  such 
the  account  of  the  Fijians,  let  us  ask  what  the  Fijians  think 
of  the  Samoans.  "  The  Feegeeans  looked  upon  the  Samoans 
with  horror,  because  they  had  no  religion,  no  belief  in  any 
such  deities  [as  the  Feegeean],  nor  any  of  the  sanguinary  rites 


268  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

which  prevailed  in  other  islands ;  "—a  statement  quite  in  har- 
mony \vith  that  made  by  Jackson,  who,  having  behaved  dis- 
respectfully to  one  of  their  gods,  was  angrily  called  by  them 
"  the  white  infidel." 

Any  one  may  read  while  running  the  lesson  conveyed; 
and,  without  stopping  to  consider  much,  may  see  its  applica- 
tion to  the  beliefs  and  sentiments  of  civilized  races.  The  fero- 
cious Fijian  doubtless  thinks  that  to  devour  a  human  victim 
in  the  name  of  one  of  his  cannibal  gods,  is  a  meritorious  act ; 
while  he  thinks  that  his  Samoau  neighbour,  who  makes  no 
sacrifice  to  these  cannibal  gods,  but  is  just  and  kind  to  his  fel- 
lows, thereby  shows  that  meanness  goes  along  with  his  shock- 
ing irreligion.  Construing  the  facts  in  this  way,  the  Fijian 
can  form  no  rational  conception  of  Samoan  society.  With 
vices  and  virtues  interchanged  in  conformity  with  his  creed, 
the  benefits  of  certain  social  arrangements,  if  he  thinks  about 
them  at  all,  must  seem  evils  and  the  evils  benefits. 

Speaking  generally,  then,  each  system  of  dogmatic  the- 
ology, with  the  sentiments  that  gather  round  it,  becomes  an 
impediment  in  the  way  of  Social  Science.  The  symi)athies 
di-awn  out  towards  one  creed  and  the  correlative  antipathies 
aroused  by  other  creeds,  distort  the  interpretations  of  all  the 
associated  facts.  On  these  institutions  and  tlieir  results  the 
eyes  are  turned  with  a  readiness  to  obseiwe  everything  that  is 
good,  and  on  those  with  a  readiness  to  observe  everything  that 
is  bad.  Let  us  glance  at  some  of  the  consequent  perversions 
of  opinion. 

Already  we  have  seen,  by  implication,  that  the  theological 
element  of  a  creed,  subordinating  the  ethical  element  com- 
pletely in  early  stages  of  civilization  and  very  considerably  in 
later  kages,  maintains  a  standard  of  right  and  wrong,  rela- 
tively good  perhaps,  but  ]i(M-hai)s  absolutely  bad  good,  that  i.s, 
a.s  measured  by  tlie  rt-ciuireiiK'nts  of  the  i)lace  and  time,  bad 
as  mea.sured  by  the  requirements  of  an  ideal  society.  And 
sanctifying,  as  an  associated  theology  thus  does,  false  concep- 
tions of  right  and  wrong,  it  falsifies  the  nieasur(>s  by  which 
tlie  elVects  of  institutions  an^  to  be  estimated.  Oliviously,  the 
scM-iological  conclusions  nnist  be  vitiated  if  lienclicial  and  det- 
linicntal  ejlecls  .'ire  not  respectively  recognized  as  such.     An 


THE  TPIEOLOGICAL   BIAS.  269 

illustratioTi  enforcing  tliis  is  worth  giving.  Here  is  Mr.  Pal- 
grave's  account  of  Wahhabee  morality,  as  disclosed  in  answers 
to  his  questions  : — 

"'The  first  of  the  great  sins  is  the  giving  divine  honours  to  a 

creature.' 

"'Of  course,'  I  replied,  'the  enormity  of  such  a  sin  is  beyond  all 
doubt.     But  if  this  be  the  first,  there  must  be  a  second ;  what  is  it  ?' 

" '  Drinking  the  shameful,'  in  English,  '  smoking  tobacco,'  was  the 
unhesitating  answer, 

'"And  murder,  and  adultery,  and  false  witness?'  I  suggested, 

"'God  is  merciful  and  forgiving,'  rejoined  my  friend;  'that  is, 
these  are  merely  little  sins,' 

" '  Hence  two  sins  alone  are  great,  polytheism  and  smoking,'  1  con- 
tinued, though  hardly  able  to  keep  countenance  any  longer.  And 
'Abd-el-Kareem,  with  the  most  serious  asseveration,  replied  that  such 
was  really  the  case."  * 

Clearly  a  creed  which  makes  smoking  one  of  the  blackest 
crimes,  and  has  only  mild  reprobation  for  the  worst  acts  com- 
mitted by  man  against  man,  negatives  anything  like  Social 
Science.  Deeds  and  habits  and  laws  not  being  judged  by  the 
degrees  in  which  they  conduce  to  temporal  welfare,  the  ideas 
of  better  and  worse,  as  applying  to  social  arrangements,  cannot 
exist,  and  such  notions  as  progress  and  retrogression  are  ex- 
cluded. But  that  which  holds  so  conspicuously  in  this  case 
holds  more  or  less  in  all  cases.  At  the  present  time  as  in  past 
times,  and  in  ovir  own  society  as  in  other  societies,  public  acts 
are  judged  by  two  tests — the  test  of  supposed  divine  appi'o- 
bation,  and  the  test  of  conduciveness  to  human  happiness. 
Though,  as  civilization  advances,  there  grows  up  the  belief 
that  the  second  test  is  equivalent  to  the  first — though,  conse- 
quently, conduciveness  to  human  happiness  comes  to  be  more 
directly  considered ;  yet  the  test  of  supposed  divine  approba- 
tion, as  inferred  from  the  particular  creed  held,  continues  to 
be  very  generally  used.  The  wrongness  of  conduct  is  con- 
ceived as  consisting  in  the  implied  disobedience  to  the  sup- 
posed commands,  and  not  as  consisting  in  its  intrinsic  character 
as  causing  suffering  to  others  or  to  self.  Inevitably  the  effect 
on  sociological  thinking  is,  that  institutions  and  actions  are 
judged  more  by  their  appai*ent  congi-uity  or  inconirruity  with 
the  established  cult,  than  by  their  tendencies  to  further  or  to 
hinder  well-being. 


270  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

This  efFect  of  the  theological  bias,  manifest  enough  eveiy- 
where.  has  been  forced  on  my  attention  by  one  whose  mental 
attitude  often  supplies  me  with  matter  for  speculation — an  old 
gentleman  who  unites  the  religion  of  amity  and  the  religion 
of  enmity  in  startling  contrast.  On  the  one  hand,  getting  up 
early  to  his  devotions,  going  to  church  even  at  great  risk  to 
his  feeble  health,  always  staying  for  the  sacrament  w^ien  there 
is  one,  he  displays  what  is  ordinarily  regarded  as  an  exem- 
plary piety.  On  the  other  hand,  his  thoughts  ever  tend  in  the 
direction  of  warfare :  fights  on  sea  and  land  furnish  topics  of 
undying  interest  to  him ;  he  revels  in  narratives  of  destruc- 
tion ;  his  talk  is  of  cannon.  To  say  that  he  divides  his  reading 
between  the  Bible  and  Alison,  or  some  kindred  book,  is  an  ex- 
aggeration ;  but  still  it  serves  to  convey  an  idea  of  his  state  of 
feeling.  Now  you  maj^  hear  him  Avaxiug  wroth  over  the  dis- 
establishment of  the  Irish  Church,  which  he  looks  upon  as  an 
act  of  sacrilege;  and  now,  w^hen  the  conversation  turns  on 
■works  of  art,  he  names  as  engravings  which  above  all  others 
he  admires,  Coeur-de-Lion  fighting  Saladin,  and  Wellington 
at  Waterloo.  Or  after  manifesting  some  kindly  feeling,  which, 
to  give  him  his  due.  he  frequently  does,  he  will  shortly  pass 
to  some  bloody  encounter,  the  narration  of  which  makes  his 
voice  tremulous  with  delight.  Marvelling  though  I  did  at 
first  over  these  incongruities  of  sentiment  and  belief,  the  ex- 
planation was  reached  on  observiiig  that  the  subordination- 
element  of  his  creed  was  far  more  dominant  in  his  conscious- 
ness than  the  moral  element.  Watching  the  movements  of 
his  mind  made  it  clear  that  to  his  imagination,  God  w^as  sym- 
bolized lis  a  kind  of  transceudontly-iiowerful  soa-captain,  and 
made  it  clear  that  he  went  to  church  from  a  feeling  akin  to 
that  with  which,  as  a  middy,  he  went  to  nmster.  On  perceiv- 
ing that  tliis,  which  is  the  sentiment  common  to  all  religions, 
whatever  be  the  name  or  ascribed  nature  of  the  d«M<y  wor- 
sliipiH'd.  was  sui)reme  in  liim,  it  ceased  to  b(>  inexi)lic'able  that 
the  .sentiment  to  which  the  Christian  religion  specially  ap- 
peals sliould  be  so  readily  over-ridden.  It  became  easier  to 
undt'rstand  how,  when  tlie  Ilyde-Park  riots  took  place,  he 
conid  wish  that  we  had  Louis  Napole(>n  over  here  to  .shoot 
down  the  mob,  and  how  he  couUl  rrcall,  with  more  or  less  of 
chuckling,  the  deeds  of  pres.s-gangs  iji  his  early  days. 


THE  THEOLOGICAL   BIAS.  271 

That  the  theological  bias,  thus  producing  conformity  to 
moi'al  principles  from  motives  of  obedience  only,  and  not 
habitually  insisting  on  such  pi-inciplos  because  of  tlieir  in- 
trinsic value,  obscui'es  sociological  truths,  will  now  not  be 
difficult  to  see.  The  tendency  is  to  substitute  formal  recog- 
nitions of  such  principles  for  real  recognitions.  So  long  as 
they  are  not  contravened  directly  enough  to  suggest  dis- 
obedience, they  may  readily  be  contravened  indirectly ;  for 
the  reason  that  there  has  not  been  cultivated  the  habit  of 
contemplating  consequences  as  they  work  out  in  remote 
ways.  Hence  it  happens  that  social  arrangements  essen- 
tially at  variance  with  the  ethics  of  the  creed,  give  no  offence 
to  those  who  are  profoundly  offended  by  whatever  seems  at 
variance  with  its  theology.  Maintenance  of  the  dogmas  and 
forms  of  the  religion  becomes  the  primary,  all-essential  thing ; 
and  the  secondary  thing,  often  sacrificed,  is  the  securing  of 
those  relations  among  m.en  which  the  spirit  of  the  religion  re- 
quires. How  conceptions  of  good  and  bad  in  social  affairs  are 
thus  warped,  the  pending  controversy  about  the  Athanasian 
creed  shows  us.  Here  we  have  theologians  who  believe  that 
our  national  welfare  will  be  endangered,  if  there  is  not  in  all 
churches  an  enforced  repetition  of  the  dogmas  that  Father, 
Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  are  each  of  them  almighty ;  that  yet 
there  are  not  three  Almighties,  but  one  Almighty  ;  that  one  of 
the  Almiffhties  suffered  on  the  cross  and  descended  into  hell 
to  pacify  another  of  them  ;  and  that  whoever  does  not  believe 
this,  "  without  doubt  shall  perish  everlastingly."  They  say 
that  if  the  State  makes  its  priests  threaten  with  eternal  tor- 
ments all  who  question  these  doctrines,  things  will  go  well ; 
but  if  those  priests  who,  in  this  threat,  perceive  the  devil- 
worship  of  the  savage  usurping  the  name  of  Christianity,  are 
allowed  to  pass  it  by  in  silence,  woe  to  the  nation  !  Evidently 
the  theological  bias  leading  to  such  a  conviction  entirely  ex- 
cludes Sociology,  considered  as  a  science. 

Under  its  special  forms,  as  well  as  under  its  general  form, 
the  theological  bias  brings  errors  into  the  estimates  men  make 
of  societies  and  institutions.  Sectarian  antipathies,  growing 
out  of  differences  of  doctrine,  disable  the  members  of  each 
I'eligious  community  from  fairly  judging  other  religious  com- 
19 


272  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

munities.  It  is  always  difScult,  and  often  impossible,  for  the 
zealot  to  conceive  that  his  own  religious  system  and  his  own 
zeal  on  its  behalf  may  have  but  a  relative  truth  and  a  relative 
value ;  or  to  conceive  that  there  may  be  relative  truths  and 
relative  values  in  alien  beliefs  and  the  fanaticisms  which 
maintain  them.  Though  the  adherent  of  each  creed  daily  has 
thrust  on  his  attention  the  fact  that  adherents  of  other  creeds 
are  no  less  confident  than  he  is — though  he  can  scarcely  fail 
sometimes  to  reflect  that  these  adherents  of  other  creeds  have, 
in  nearly  all  cases,  simply  accejjted  the  dogmas  current  in  the 
places  and  families  they  were  born  in,  and  that  he  has  done 
the  like  ;  yet  the  special  theological  bias  which  his  education 
and  surroundings  have  given  liim,  makes  it  almost  beyond 
imagination  that  these  other  creeds  may,  some  of  them,  have 
justifications  as  good  as,  if  not  better  than,  his  own,  and  that 
the  rest,  along  with  certain  amounts  of  absolute  worth,  may 
have  their  special  fitnesses  to  the  people  holding  them. 

We  cannot  doubt,  for  instance,  that  the  feeling  with  which 
Mr.  Whalley  or  Mr.  Newdegate  regards  Roman  Catholicism, 
must  cause  extreme  reluctance  to  admit  the  services  which 
Roman  Catholicism  rendered  to  European  civilization  in  the 
past ;  and  must  make  almost  impossible  a  patient  hearing  of 
anyone  wlio  thinks  that  it  renders  some  services  now.  Whether 
great  benefit  did  not  arise  in  eai'ly  times  from  the  tendency 
towards  unification  produced  within  each  congeries  of  small 
societies  by  a  common  creed  authoritatively  imposed  ? — 
whether  papal  power  supposed  to  be  divinely  deputed,  and 
therefore  tending  to  subordinate  tlie  political  authorities  dur- 
ing turbulent  feudal  ages,  did  not  serve  to  curb  warfare  and 
fiu'thor  civilization  ? — whetlier  the  strong  tendency'  slKn\ni  by 
early  Cliristianity  to  lapse  into  separate  local  ])agaiiisms,  was 
not  bcnclicially  cliecked  by  an  ecclesiastical  sj-stem  having  a 
single  liead  supposed  to  be  infallible  ? — whether  morals  were 
not  improved,  manners  softened,  slavery  ameliorated,  and  the 
coiulilion  of  women  raised,  by  the  iufluenee  of  the  Church, 
notwithstanding  all  its  suj)erstitions  and  bigotries  ? — arc 
questions  U)  which  Dr.  Cuiiuning,  or  other  vehement  op- 
ponent of  popery,  could  not  bring  a  mind  o])(Mi  to  con- 
viclion.  Similarly,    fi'oni     the    Roman    (\i(li()lic    the 

ineaniiig   and    woi-th   of   I'rotestantism    arc  hidden.     To   the 


THE   THEOLOGICAL  BIAS.  273 

Ultramontane,  holding-  that  the  temporal  welfare  no  less  than 
the  eternal  salvation  of  men  depends  on  submission  to  the 
Church,  it  is  incredible  that  Church-authority  has  but  a  tran- 
sitory value,  and  that  the  denials  of  authority  which  have 
come  along  with  accumulation  of  knowledge  and  change  of 
sentiment,  mark  steps  from  a  lower  social  regime  to  a  higher. 
Naturally,  the  sincere  Papist  thinks  schism  a  crime  ;  and  books 
that  throw  doubt  on  the  established  beliefs  seem  to  him  ac- 
cursed. Nor  need  we  wonder  when  from  such  a  one  there 
comes  a  saying  like  that  of  the  Mayor  of  Bordeaux,  so  much 
applauded  by  the  Comte  de  Chambord,  that  "  the  Devil  was 
the  first  Protestant ;  "  or  when,  along  with  this,  there  goes  a 
vilification  of  Protestants  too  repulsive  to  be  rei^eated.  Clear- 
ly, with  such  a  theological  bias,  fostering  such  ideas  respect- 
ing Protestant  morality,  there  must  be  extremely-false  esti" 
mates  of  Protestant  institutions,  and  of  all  the  institutions 
associated  with  them. 

In  less  striking  ways,  but  still  in  ways  sufficiently  marked, 
tlie  special  theological  bias  warjis  the  judgments  of  Conform- 
ists and  Nonconformists  among  ourselves.  A  fair  estimate  of 
the  advantages  which  our  State-Church  has  yielded,  is  not  to 
be  expected  from  the  zealous  dissenter :  he  sees  only  the  dis- 
advantages. Whether  voluntaryism  could  have  done  cen- 
turies ago  all  that  it  can  do  now  ? — whether  a  State-sup- 
ported Protestantism  was  not  once  the  best  thing  practicable  ? 
— are  questions  which  he  is  unlikely  to  discuss  without  preju- 
dice. Contrariwise,  the  churchman  is  reluctant  to  be- 
lieve that  the  union  of  Church  and  State  is  beneficial  only 
during  a  certain  phase  of  progress.  He  knows  that  within 
the  Establishment  divisions  are  daily  increasing,  while  volun- 
tary agency  is  doing  daily  a  larger  share  of  the  work  origi- 
nally undertaken  by  the  State  ;  but  he  does  not  like  to  think 
that  there  is  a  kinship  between  such  facts  and  the  fact  that 
outside  the  Establishment  the  power  of  Dissent  is  grooving. 
That  these  changes  are  parts  of  a  general  change  by  which 
the  political  and  religious  agencies,  which  have  been  differ- 
entiating from  the  beginning,  are  being  separated  and  special- 
ized, is  not  an  accejjtable  idea.  He  is  averse  to  the  conception 
that  just  as  Protestantism  at  large  was  a  rebellion  against  an 
Ecclcsiastieism   which    dominated   over    Europe,  so  Dissent 


274  THE  STUDY   OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

among  ourselves  is  a  rebellion  against  an  Ecclesiasticisni 
which  dominates  over  England ;  and  that  the  tvvo  are  but 
successive  stages  of  the  same  beneficial  development.  That 
is  to  say,  his  bias  prevents  him  from  contemplating  the  facts 
ill  a  way  favourable  to  scientific  interpretations  of  them. 

Everywhere,  indeed,  the  special  theological  bias  accom- 
panying a  special  set  of  doctrines,  inevitably  pre-judges  many 
sociological  questions.  One  who  holds  a  creed  as  absolutely  true, 
and  who  by  implication  holds  the  multitudinous  other  creeds 
to  be  absolutely  false  in  so  far  as  they  differ  from  his  own, 
cannot  entertain  the  supposition  that  the  value  of  a  creed  is 
relative.  That  a  particular  religious  system  is,  in  a  general 
sense,  a  natural  part  of  the  particular  society  in  which  it  is 
found,  is  an  entirely-alien  conception  ;  and,  indeed,  a  repug- 
nant one.  His  system  of  dogmatic  theology  he  thinks  good 
for  all  places  and  all  times.  He  does  not  doubt  that  when 
planted  among  a  horde  of  savages,  it  will  be  duly  understood 
by  them,  duly  ap^jrcciated  by  them,  and  work  on  them  results 
such  as  those  lie  experiences  from  it.  Thus  prepossessed,  he 
passes  over  the  proofs  found  everywhere,  tliat  a  people  is  no 
more  capable  of  suddenly  receiving  a  higher  form  of  religion 
than  it  is  capable  of  suddenly  receiving  a  higher  form  of  gov- 
ernment ;  and  that  inevitably  with  such  religion,  as  with  such 
government,  there  will  go  on  a  degradation  which  presently 
reduces  it  to  one  differing  but  nominally  from  its  predecessor. 
In  other  words,  his  special  theological  bias  blinds  him  to  an 
important  class  of  sociological  truths. 

The  effects  of  the  theological  bias  need  no  further  elucida- 
tion. We  will  turn  our  attention  to  the  distortions  of  judg- 
ment caused  by  theanti-tlieological  bias.  Not  only  the  actions 
of  religious  dogmas,  but  also  the  reactions  against  them,  are 
disturbing  influences  we  have  to  beware  of.  Let  us  glance 
first  at  an  instance  of  that  indignation  against  the  established 
creed,  whicli  all  display  in()r(>  or  less  wIhmi  they  emancipate 
them.selves  from  it. 

"A  Nepaul  king,  Uuiii  Riihadur,  whoso  bcnntiful  queen,  flnding 
that  her  lovely  face  had  been  disfigured  liv  small-pox,  poisoned  hor- 
sclf,  'cursed  his  kingdom,  her  doctors,  and  tli<>  g<ids  of  Xt'iiaul.  vow- 
ing vengeance  on  all.'     Having  ordered  the  doctors  (o  he  flogged,  and 


THE  THEOLOGICAL  BIAS.  275 

the  right  ear  and  nose  of  each  to  be  cut  olT,  '  he  then  wreaked  his 
vengeance  on  the  gods  of  Nepaul,  and  after  abusing  them  in  the  most 
gross  way,  he  accused  them  of  having  obtained  from  him  twelve 
thousand  goats,  some  hundred-weights  of  sweetmeats,  two  thousand 
gallons  of  milk.  &c.,  under  false  pretences.'  ...  He  then  ordered 
all  the  artillery,  varying  from  three  to  twelve-pounders,  to  be  brought 
in  front  of  the  palace.  ...  All  the  guns  were  then  loaded  to  the 
muzzle,  and  down  he  marched  to  the  head-quarters  of  the  Nepaul 
deities.  .  .  .  All  the  guns  were  drawn  up  in  front  of  the  several 
deities,  honouring  the  most  sacred  with  the  heaviest  metal.  When 
the  order  to  fire  was  given,  many  of  the  chiefs  and  soldiers  ran  away 
panic-stricken,  and  others  hesitated  to  obey  the  sacrilegious  order; 
and  not  until  several  gunners  had  been  cut  down,  were  the  guns 
ot)ened.  Down  came  the  gods  and  goddesses  from  their  hitherto  sacred 
positions;  and  after  six  hours'  heavy  cannonading  not  a  vestige  of  the 
deities  remained."  * 

This,  which  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  pieces  of  icono- 
clasm  on  record,  exhibits  in  an  extreme  form  the  reactive  an- 
tagonism usually  accompanying  abandonment  of  an  old 
belief — an  antagonism  that  is  high  in  proportion  as  the  pre- 
vious submission  has  been  profound.  By  stabling  their  horses 
in  cathedrals  and  treating  the  sacred  places  and  symbols  Avith 
intentional  insult,  the  Puritans  displayed  this  feeling  in  a 
marked  manner ;  as  again  did  the  French  revolutionists  by 
pulling  down  sacristies  and  altar-tables,  tearing  mass-books 
into  cartridge-papers,  drinking  brandy  out  of  chalices,  eating 
mackerel  off  patenas,  making  mock  ecclesiastical  processions, 
and  holding  drunken  revels  in  churches.  Though  in  our  day 
the  breaking  of  bonds  less  rigid  effected  by  struggles  less  vio- 
lent, is  followed  by  a  less  excessive  opposition  and  hatred ; 
yet,  habitually,  the  throwing-off  of  the  old  form  involves  a 
replacing  of  the  previous  sympathy  by  more  or  less  of  antip- 
athy :  perversion  of  judgment  caused  by  the  antipathy  taking 
the  place  of  that  caused  by  the  sympathy.  What  before  was 
reverenced  as  wholly  true  is  now  scorned  as  wholly  false ; 
and  what  was  treasured  as  invaluable  is  now  rejected  as 
valueless. 

In  some,  this  state  of  sentiment  and  belief  continues.  In 
others,  the  reaction  is  in  course  of  time  followed  hy  a  re-action. 
To  carry  out  the  Carlylean  figure,  tlie  old  clothes  which  had 
been  outgrown  and  were  finally  torn  off  and  tlu'o-\\'n  aside 


276  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

with  contempt,  come  presently  to  be  looked  back  upon  with 
more  calmness,  and  with  recognition  of  the  fact  that  they  did 
good  service  in  their  time — nay,  perhaps  with  the  doubt 
whether  they  were  not  thrown  off  too  soon.  This  re-action 
may  be  feeble  or  may  be  strong ;  but  only  when  it  takes  place 
in  due  amount  is  there  a  possibility  of  balanced  judgments 
either  on  religious  questions  or  on  those  questions  of  Social 
Science  into  which  the  religious  element  enters. 

Here  we  have  to  glance  at  the  sociological  errors  caused 
by  the  anti-theological  bias  among  those  in  whom  it  does  not 
become  qualified.  Thinking  only  of  what  is  erroneous  in  the 
rejected  creed,  they  ignore  the  truth  for  which  it  stands  ;  con- 
templating only  its  mischiefs  they  overlook  its  benefits  ;  and 
doing  this,  they  think  that  nothing  but  good  would  result 
from  its  general  abandonment.  Let  us  observe  the  tacit  as- 
sumptions made  in  drawing  this  conclusion. 

It  is  assumed,  in  the  first  place,  that  adequate  guidance  for 
conduct  in  life,  private  and  public,  could  be  had ;  and  that  a 
moral  code,  rationally  elaborated  by  men  as  they  now  are, 
would  be  duly  operative  upon  them.  Neither  of  these  propo- 
sitions commends  itself  when  we  examine  the  evidence.  We 
have  but  to  observe  human  action  as  it  meets  us  at  every 
turn,  to  see  that  the  average  intelligence,  incapable  of  guiding 
conduct  even  in  simple  matters,  where  but  a  very  moderate 
reach  of  reason  would  suffice,  must  fail  in  a])prchending  with 
due  clearness  the  natural  sanctions  of  ethical  principles.  The 
unthinking  ineptitude  with  which  even  the  routine  of  life  is 
carried  on  by  the  mass  of  men,  shows  clearly  that  they  have 
nothing  like  the  insight  required  for  self-guidance  in  the  ab- 
sence of  an  authoritative  code  of  coiiduct.  Take  a  day's  ex- 
perience, and  observe  the  lack  of  tliought  indicated  from  liour 
to  liour. 

"^'()U  rise  in  llic  morning,  and,  while  dressing,  tiike  up  a 
])]iial  conlaining  a  tonic,  of  w'hicli  a  little  has  Immmi  ])rcscril)('d 
for  you  ;  but  after  tlie  first  few  drops  have  been  counted, 
succeeding  drops  nin  down  the  side  of  the  ])hial,  for  the  rea- 
son tliat  the  lip  is  shaju'd  without  reganl  \<>  tlie  requiro- 
ment.  Yet  niillion.s  of  such  phials  an^  annually  made  by 
glass-makers,  and    sent   out   hy   Ihou.sands   of   druggists:    so 


THE  THEOLOGICAL   BLVS.  277 

small  being  the  amount  of  sense  brought  to  bear  on  busi- 
ness. Now,  turning  to  the  looking-glass,  you  find  that,  if  not 
of  the  best  make,  it  fails  to  preserve  the  attitude  in  which  you 
put  it ;  or,  if  what  is  called  a  "  box  "  looking-glass,  you  see  that 
maintenance  of  its  position  is  insui'ed  by  an  expensive  appli- 
ance which  would  have  been  superfluous  had  a  little  reason 
been  used.  Were  the  adjustment  such  that  the  centre  of  grav- 
ity of  the  glass  came  in  the  line  joining  the  points  of  support 
(which  would  be  quite  as  easy  an  adjustment),  the  glass  would 
remain  steady  in  whatever  attitude  you  gave  it.  Yet,  year 
after  year,  tens  of  thousands  of  looking-glasses  are  made  with- 
out regard  to  so  simple  a  need.  Presently  you  go  down  to 
breakfast,  and  taking  some  Harvey  or  other  sauce  with  your 
llsh,  find  the  bottle  has  a  defect  like  that  which  you  found  in 
the  phial :  it  is  sticky  from  the  drops  which  trickle  down,  and 
occasionally  stain  the  table-cloth.  Here  are  other  groups  of 
traders  similarly  so  economical  of  thought,  that  they  do  noth- 
ing to  rectify  this  obvious  inconvenience.  Having  break- 
fasted, you  take  up  the  paper,  and,  before  sitting  down,  wish 
to  put  some  coal  on  the  fire.  But  the  lump  you  seize  with  the 
tongs  slips  out  of  them,  and,  if  large,  you  make  several  at- 
tempts before  you  succeed  in  lifting  it :  all  because  the  ends 
of  the  tongs  are  smooth.  Makers  and  venders  of  fire-irons  go 
on,  generation  after  generation,  without  meeting  this  evil  by 
simply  giving  to  these  smooth  ends  some  projecting  points,  or 
even  roughening  them  by  a  few  burrs  made  with  a  chisel. 
Having  at  length  grasped  the  lump  and  put  it  on  the  fire,  you 
begin  to  read  ;  but  before  getting  through  the  first  column  you 
are  reminded,  by  the  changes  of  position  which  your  sensa- 
tions prompt,  that  men  still  fail  to  make  easy-chairs.  And 
yet  the  guiding  principle  is  simple  enough.  Just  that  advan- 
tage secured  by  using  a  soft  seat  in  place  of  a  hard  one — the 
advantage,  namely,  of  spreading  over  a  larger  area  the  pres- 
sure of  the  weight  to  be  borne,  and  so  making  the  pressure  less 
intense  at  any  one  point — is  an  advantage  to  be  sought  in  the 
form  of  the  chair.  Ease  is  to  be  gained  by  making  the  shapes 
and  relative  inclinations  of  seat  and  back,  such  as  will  evenly 
distribute  the  weight  of  the  trunk  and  limbs  over  the  widest- 
possible  supporting  surface,  and  with  the  least  straining  of  the 
parts  out  of  their  natural  attitudes.     And  yet  only  now,  after 


278  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

these  thousands  of  years  of  civilization,  are  there  being 
reached  (and  that  not  rationally  but  empirically)  approxima- 
tions to  the  structure  required. 

Such  are  the  experiences  of  the  first  hour ;  and  so  they  con- 
tinue all  the  day  through.  If  you  watch  and  criticize,  you 
may  see  that  the  immense  majority  bring  to  bear,  even  on 
those  actions  which  it  is  the  business  of  their  lives  to  carry  on 
effectually,  an  extremely-small  amount  of  faculty.  Employ 
a  workman  to  do  something  that  is  partly  new,  and  not  the 
clearest  explanations  and  sketches  will  prevent  him  from 
blundering ;  and  to  any  expression  of  sm-prise,  he  will  I'eply 
that  he  was  not  brought  up  to  such  work :  scarcely  ever  be- 
ti-aying  the  slightest  shame  in  confessing  that  he  cannot  do  a 
thing  he  was  not  taught  to  do.  Similarly  tlnoughout  the 
higher  grades  of  activity.  Eemember  how  generally  improve- 
ments in  manufactures  come  from  outsiders,  and  you  are  at 
once  shown  with  what  mere  unintelligent  routine  manufactures 
are  commonly  carried  on.  Examine  into  the  management  of 
mercantile  concerns,  and  yoa  perceive  that  those  engaged  in 
them  mostly  do  nothing  more  than  move  in  the  ruts  that  have 
gradually  been  made  for  them  by  the  jirocess  of  trial  and 
error  during  a  long  succession  of  genei'ations.  Indeed,  it 
almost  seems  as  though  most  men  made  it  their  aim  to 
get  through  life  with  the  least  possible  expenditure  of 
thought. 

How,  then,  can  there  be  looked  for  sucli  power  of  self- 
guidance  as.  in  the  absence  of  inherited  autlioritative  rules, 
would  require  them  to  understand  why,  in  the  nature  of 
things,  these  modes  of  action  are  injuinous  and  those  modes 
beneficial — would  require  them  to  pass  beyond  proximate  re- 
sults, and  see  clearly  the  involved  remote  results,  as  worked 
out  on  self,  on  others,  and  on  society  ? 

The  incapacity  nocd  iiol.  indeed,  l)o  inferred  :  it  may  1)0 
seen,  if  we  do  l)ut  take  an  action  concerning  wliicli  the  sancti- 
fied code  is  silent.  Listen  to  a  conversation  aliout  gambling; 
and,  where  re])r()bation  is  (^xjjressed,  note  flie  grounds  of  the 
reprobation.  That  it  lends  inujnds  the  ruin  nf  (he  gambler ; 
that  it  risks  iho.  welfare  of  family  .11  id  friends  ;  that  it  alienates 
from  l)usiiiess,  and  leads  into  had  (•onii)an,v  these,  and  siK-h 
U.S  these,  are  the  rea.sons  given  fur  cojulemning  the  practice. 


THE  THEOLOGICAL   BIAS.  279 

Earely  is  there  any  recognition  of  the  fundamental  reason. 
Rarely  is  gambling  condemned  because  it  is  a  kind  of  action 
by  which  pleasure  is  obtained  at  the  cost  of  pain  to  another. 
The  normal  obtainment  of  gratification,  or  of  the  money 
which  purchases  gratification,  implies,  firstly,  that  there  has 
been  put  forth  equivalent  effort  of  a  kind  which,  in  some  way, 
furthers  the  general  good ;  and  implies,  secondly,  that  those 
from  whom  money  is  received,  get,  directly  or  indii^ectly, 
equivalent  satisfactions.  But  in  gambling  the  opposite  hap- 
pens. Benefit  received  does  not  imply  effort  put  forth ;  and 
the  happiness  of  the  winner  involves  the  misery  of  the  loser. 
This  kind  of  action  is  therefore  essentially  anti-social — sears 
the  sympathies,  cultivates  a  hard  egoism,  and  so  produces  a 
general  deterioration  of  character  and  conduct. 

Clearly,  then,  a  visionary  hope  misleads  those  who  think 
that  in  an  imagined  age  of  reason,  which  might  forthwith  re- 
l^lace  an  age  of  beliefs  but  partly  rational,  conduct  would  be  cor- 
rectly guided  by  a  code  directly  based  on  considerations  of  util- 
ity. A  utilitarian  system  of  ethics  cannot  at  present  be  rightly 
thought  out  even  by  the  select  few,  and  is  quite  beyond  the  men- 
tal reach  of  the  many.  The  value  of  the  inherited  and  theolog- 
ically-enforced code  is  tliat  it  formulates,  with  some  approach 
to  truth,  the  accumulated  results  of  past  human  experience. 
It  has  not  arisen  rationally  but  empirically.  During  past 
times  mankind  have  eventually  gone  right  after  trying  all 
possible  ways  of  going  vn:'ong.  Tlie  wrong-goings  have  been 
habitually  checked  by  disaster,  and  pain,  and  death ;  and  the 
right-goings  have  been  continued  because  not  thus  checked. 
There  has  been  a  growth  of  beliefs  corresponding  to  these 
good  and  evil  results.  Hence  the  code  of  conduct,  embodying 
discoveries  slowly  and  almost  unconsciously  made  through  a 
long  series  of  generations,  has  transcendent  authority  on  its 
side. 

Nor  is  this  all.  Were  it  possible  forthwith  to  replace  a 
traditionally-established  system  of  rules,  supposed  to  be  super- 
natm*ally  warranted,  by  a  system  of  rules  rationally  elabo- 
rated, no  such  rationally-elaborated  system  of  rules  would  be 
adequately  operative.  To  think  that  it  would,  implies  the 
thought  that  men's  beliefs  and  actions  are  tlu'oughout  deter- 


280  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

mined  by  intellect ;  whereas  they  are  in  much  larger  degrees 
determined  bv  feeling. 

There  is  a  wide  difference  between  the  formal  assent  sriven 
to  a  proposition  that  cannot  be  denied,  and  the  efficient  belief 
which  produces  active  conformity  to  it.  Often  the  most  con- 
clusive argument  fails  to  produce  a  conviction  capable  of 
swaying  conduct ;  and  often  mere  assertion,  with  great  em- 
phasis and  signs  of  confidence  on  the  part  of  the  utterer,  will 
produce  a  fixed  conviction  where  there  is  no  evidence,  and 
even  in  spite  of  adverse  evidence.  Especially  is  this  so  among 
those  of  little  culture.  Not  only  may  we  see  that  strength  of 
affirmation  and  an  authoritative  manner  create  faith  in  them  ; 
but  we  may  see  that  their  faith  sometimes  actually  decreases 
if  explanation  is  given.  The  natural  language  of  belief  dis- 
played by  another,  is  that  which  generates  their  belief— not 
the  logically-conclusive  evidence.  The  dependencies  of  this 
they  cannot  clearly  follow ;  and  in  trying  to  follow,  they  so 
far  lose  themselves  that  premisses  and  conclusion,  not  per- 
ceived to  stand  in  necessary  relation,  are  rendered  less  coher- 
ent than  by  putting  them  in  juxtaposition  and  strengthening 
their  connexion  by  a  wave  of  the  emotion  which  emphatic 
affirmation  raises. 

Nay,  it  is  even  true  that  the  most  cultivated  intelligences, 
capable  of  criticizing  evidence  and  valuing  arguments  to  a 
nicety,  are  not  thereby  made  rational  to  the  extent  that  they 
are  guided  by  intellect  apart  from  emotion.  Continually  men 
of  the  widest  knowledge  deliberately  do  things  tlioy  know  to 
be  injurious ;  suffer  the  evils  that  transgression  brings ;  are 
deterred  awhile  by  the  vivid  remembrance  of  them  ;  and, 
wlien  the  remembrance  has  become  faint,  transgress  agaiji. 
Often  tlie  emotional  consciousness  over-rides  tbe  intellectual 
coiisciousness  al)s()lutely,  as  hyi^ochoiidriacal  patients  show 
us.  A  .sufferer  fi-oiu  dcpi'csscd  spirits  may  1kiv(^  the  testimony 
of  liis  ])hy.sicians,  verified  by  numerous  past  experiences  of  his 
own,  sliowing  lliat  bis  gloomy  anticijiafions  are  illusions 
caused  by  iiis  Ixidily  state;  and  yet  the  conclusive  jjroofs  that 
they  are  irrational  do  not  enable  him  to  get  rid  of  (hem  :  ho 
continues  to  feel  sure  that  disasters  are  coming  on  liim. 

All  which,  and  many  kindred  facts,  mak(>  it  certain  that 
the  operativeness  of  u  moi'al  code  depcuids  much  more  on  the 


THE  THEOLOGICAL  BIAS.  281 

emotions  called  forth  by  its  injunctions,  than  on  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  utility  of  obeying  such  injunctions.  The 
feelings  drawn  out  during  early  life  towards  moral  principles, 
by  witnessing  the  social  sanction  and  the  religious  sanction 
they  possess,  influence  conduct  far  more  than  the  jjercejition 
that  conformity  to  such  principles  conduces  to  welfare.  And 
in  the  absence  of  the  feelings  which  manifestations  of  these 
sanctions  arouse,  the  utilitarian  belief  is  commonly  inade- 
quate to  produce  conformity. 

It  is  true  that  the  sentiments  in  the  higher  races,  and  espe- 
cially in  superior  members  of  the  higher  races,  are  now  in 
considerable  degrees  adjusted  to  these  principles  :  the  sympa- 
thies that  have  become  organic  in  the  most  developed  men, 
produce  spontaneous  conformity  to  altruistic  precei)ts.  Even 
for  such,  however,  the  social  sanction,  which  is  in  part  de- 
rived from  the  religious  sanction,  is  important  as  strengthen- 
ing the  influence  of  these  precepts.  And  for  persons  endowed 
with  less  of  moral  sentiment,  the  social  and  religious  sanctions 
are  still  more  important  aids  to  guidance. 

Thus  the  anti-theological  bias  leads  to  serious  errors,  both 
when  it  ignores  the  essential  share  hitherto  taken  by  religious 
systems  in  giving  force  to  certain  j)rinciples  of  action,  in  part 
absolutely  good  and  in  part  good  relatively  to  the  needs  of 
the  time,  and  again  when  it  i^rompts  the  notion  that  these 
principles  might  now  be  so  established  on  rational  bases  as  to 
rule  men  effectually  through  their  enlightened  intellects. 

These  errors,  however,  v/hich  the  anti-theological  bias  pro- 
duces, are  superficial  compared  with  the  error  that  remains. 
The  antagonism  to  superstitious  beliefs  habitually  leads  to 
entire  rejection  of  them.  They  are  tbrown  aside  -with  the  as- 
sumption that  along  with  so  much  that  is  wrong  there  is 
nothing  right.  Whereas  the  truth,  recognizable  only  after 
antagonism  has  spent  itself,  is  that  the  wrong  beliefs  rejected 
are  superficial,  and  that  a  right  belief  hidden  by  them  remains 
when  they  have  been  rejected.  Those  who  defend,  equally 
with  those  who  assail,  religious  creeds,  suppose  that  every- 
thing turns  on  the  maintenance  of  the  particular  dogmas  at 
issue ;  whereas  the  dogmas  are  but  temporary  forms  of  that 
which  is  i^ermanent. 


282  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

The  process  of  Evolution  which  has  gradually  modified 
and  advanced  men's  conceptions  of  the  Universe,  %W11  con- 
tinue to  modify  and  advance  them  during  the  future.  The 
ideas  of  Cause  and  Origin,  which  have  been  slowly  changing, 
will  change  still  fui'ther.  But  no  changes  in  them,  even  when 
pushed  to  the  extreme,  will  expel  them  from  consciousness ; 
and  hence  there  can  never  be  an  extinction  of  the  correlative 
sentiments.  No  more  in  this  than  in  other  things,  will  Evo- 
lution alter  its  genei*al  direction :  it  will  continue  along  the 
same  lines  as  hitherto.  And  if  we  wish  to  see  whither  it 
tends,  we  have  but  to  observe  how  there  has  been  thus  far  a 
decreasing  concreteuess  of  the  consciousness  to  which  the  re- 
ligious sentiment  is  related,  to  infer  that  hereafter  this  con- 
creteuess will  further  diminish :  leaving  behind  a  substance 
of  consciousness  for  which  there  is  no  adequate  form,  but 
which  is  none  the  less  persistent  and  powerful. 

Without  seeming  so,  tlie  development  of  religious  senti- 
ment has  been  continuous  from  the  beginning ;  and  its  nature 
when  a  germ  was  the  same  as  is  its  nature  when  fully  devel- 
oped. The  savage  first  shows  it  in  the  feeling  excited  by  a 
display  of  power  in  another  exceeding  his  own  power — some 
skill,  some  sagacity,  in  his  chief,  leading  to  a  result  he  does 
not  understand — something  which  has  the  element  of  mystery 
and  arouses  his  wonder.  To  his  unspeculative  intellect  there 
is  nothing  wonderful  in  the  ordinary  course  of  things  around. 
The  regular  sequences,  the  constant  relations,  do  not  present 
themselves  to  him  as  problems  needing  interpretation.  Only 
anomalies  in  that  course  of  causation  which  he  knows  most 
intimately,  namely,  human  will  and  power,  excite  his  surprise 
and  raise  questions.  And  only  when  experiences  of  phenom- 
ena of  other  classes  become  multiplied  enough  for  generaliza- 
tion, does  the  occurrence  of  anomalies  among  these  also, 
arouse  the  same  idea  of  mystery  and  the  same  sentiment  of 
Avonder  :  hence  one  kind  of  fetichism.  Passing  over  in- 

tennodiate  stages,  the  Irulli  to  bo  noted  is,  that  as  fast  as  ex- 
planation of  the  anomalies  dissipates  tlie  wonder  they  excited, 
there  grows  up  a  wonder  at  the  uniformities  :  there  arises  the 
qiiesti<)n  How  comk^  tbcy  to  Ix-  iiiiiroiMiiitics  ?  As  fast  as 
S<'ienc('  transfers  iiion'  and  more  tbings  from  the  category  of 
irregularities  to  tlie  category  of  regularities,  the  mystery  that 


THE  THEOLOGICAL  BIAS.  283 

once  attached  to  the  superstitious  explanations  of  them  be- 
comes a  mystery  attaching  to  the  scientific  explanations  of 
them :  there  is  a  merging  of  many  special  mysteries  in  one 
general  mystery.  The  astronomer,  having  shown  that  the 
motions  of  the  Solar  System  imply  a  uniform  and  invariably- 
acting  force  he  calls  gravitation,  finds  himself  utterly  incapa- 
ble of  conceiving  this  force.  Though  he  helps  himself  to 
think  of  the  Sun's  action  on  the  Earth  by  assuming  an  inter- 
vening medium,  and  finds  he  must  do  this  if  he  thinks  about 
it  at  all ;  yet  the  mystery  re-appears  when  he  asks  what  is  the 
constitution  of  this  medium.  While  compelled  to  use  units 
of  ether  as  syrubols,  he  sees  that  they  can  be  but  symbols. 
Similarly  with  the  physicist  and  the  chemist.  The  hypothesis 
of  atoms  and  raolecules  enables  them  to  work  out  multitudi- 
nous interpretations  that  are  verified  by  experiment ;  but  the 
ultimate  unit  of  matter  admits  of  no  consistent  conception. 
Instead  of  the  particular  mysteries  presented  by  those  actions 
of  matter  they  have  explained,  there  rises  into  prominence 
the  mystery  which  matter  universally  presents,  and  which 
proves  to  be  absolute.  So  that,  beginning  with  the  germinal 
idea  of  mystery  which  the  savage  gets  from  a  display  of 
power  in  another  transcending  his  own,  and  the  germinal 
sentiment  of  awe  accompanying  it,  the  jjrogress  is  towards  an 
ultimate  recognition  of  a  mystery  behind  every  act  and  ap- 
pearance, and  a  transfer  of  the  awe  from  something  special 
and  occasional  to  something  universal  and  unceasing. 

No  one  need  expect,  then,  that  the  religious  consciousness 
will  die  away  or  will  change  the  lines  of  its  evolution.  Its 
specialities  of  form,  once  strongly  marked  and  becoming  less 
distinct  during  past  mental  progress,  will  continue  to  fade  ; 
but  the  substance  of  the  consciousness  will  persist.  That  the 
object-matter  can  be  replaced  by  another  object-matter,  as 
supposed  by  those  who  think  the  "  Religion  of  Humanity  " 
will  be  the  religion  of  the  future,  is  a  belief  countenanced 
neither  by  induction  nor  by  deduction.  However  dominant 
may  become  the  moral  sentiment  enlisted  on  behalf  of  Hu- 
manity, it  can  never  exclude  the  sentiment,  alone  properly 
called  religious,  awakened  by  that  which  is  behind  Humanity 
and  behind  all  other  things.  The  child  by  wrapping  its  head 
in  the  bed-clothes,  may,  for  a  moment,  supi^ress  the  conscious- 


284  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

ness  of  siiiTOunding  darkness ;  but  the  consciousness,  though 
rendered  less  vivid,  survives,  and  imagination  persists  in 
occupj-ing  itself  with  that  which  lies  beyond  perception.  No 
such  thing  as  a  "  Religion  of  Humanity  "  can  ever  do  mox*e 
than  temporarily  shut  out  the  thought  of  a  Power  of  which 
Humanity  is  but  a  small  and  fugitive  product— a  Power 
which  was  in  coui'se  of  ever-changing  manifestations  before 
Humanity  was,  and  will  continue  through  other  manifesta- 
tions wlien  Humanity  has  ceased  to  be. 

To  recognitions  of  this  order  the  anti-theological  bias  is  a 
hindrance.  Ignoring  the  truth  for  which  religions  stand,  it 
under-values  religiovis  institutions  in  the  past,  thinks  they  are 
needless  in  the  pi^esent,  and  expects  they  will  leave  no  repre- 
sentatives in  the  future.  Hence  mistakes  in  sociological 
reasonings. 

To  the  various  other  forms  of  bias,  then,  against  which  we 
must  guard  in  studying  the  Social  Science,  has  to  be  added  the 
bias,  perhaps  as  powerful  and  perverting  as  any,  which  relig- 
ious beliefs  and  sentiments  produce.  This,  both  generally 
under  the  form  of  theological  bigotry,  and  specially  under 
the  form  of  sectarian  bigotry,  affects  the  judgments  about 
puljiic  affairs  ;  and  reaction  against  it  gives  the  judgments  an 
opposite  warp. 

The  theological  bias  under  its  general  form,  tending  to 
maintain  a  dominance  of  the  subordination-element  of  re- 
ligion over  its  etliical  element — tending,  therefore,  to  measure 
actions  by  their  formal  congruity  with  a  creed  rather  than  by 
their  intrinsic  congruity  with  human  welfare,  is  unfavourable 
to  that  estimation  of  worth  in  social  arrangements  wliicli  is 
made  by  tracing  out  results.  And  while  the  goneval  tlieo- 
logical  bias  brings  into  Sociology  an  element  of  distortion,  by 
using  a  kind  of  measure  foreign  to  the  science  properly  so 
called,  the  si)ccial  theological  bias  brings  in  fui-llu'r  disloi-- 
tions,  arising  from  s]>e('ial  nu'asuresof  this  kind  which  it  uses. 
Institutions,  old  and  new,  home  and  foreign,  ai'e  consitlered  as 
congruous  or  incongi-uous  with  particular  sets  of  dogmas, 
and  are  liked  or  disliked  accordingly:  the  obvious  result 
b«iing  that,  since  the  sets  of  dogmas  dill'f  r  in  :il1  times  and 
places,    the   sociological    judgments   allVctcd    l)y    tlirni    must 


THE  THEOLOGICAL  BIAS.  285 

inevitably  be  wrong  in  all  cases  but  one,  and  probably  iu  all 
cases. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  reactive  bias  distorts  conceptions  of 
social  phenomena  by  under-valuing  religious  systems.  It 
generates  an  unwillingness  to  see  that  a  religious  system  is  a 
normal  and  essential  factor  in  every  evolving  society  ;  that  the 
specialities  of  it  have  certain  fitnesses  to  the  social  conditions  ; 
and  that  while  its  form  is  temporary  its  subsistence  is  perma- 
nent. In  so  far  as  the  anti-theological  bias  causes  an  ignoring 
of  these  truths,  or  an  inadequate  appreciation  of  them,  it  causes 
misinterpretations. 

To  maintain  the  required  equilibrium  amid  the  conflicting 
sympathies  and  antipathies  which  contemplation  of  religious 
beliefs  inevitably  generates,  is  difficult.  In  presence  of  the 
theological  thaw  going  on  so  fast  on  all  sides,  there  is  on  the 
part  of  many  a  fear,  and  on  the  part  of  some  a  hope,  that 
nothing  will  remain.  But  the  hopes  and  the  fears  are  alike 
groundless  ;  and  must  be  dissipated  before  balanced  judg- 
ments in  Social  Science  can  be  formed.  Like  the  transfor- 
mations that  have  succeeded  one  another  hitherto,  the  trans- 
formation now  in  progress  is  but  an  advance  from  a  lower 
form,  no  longer  fit,  to  a  higher  and  fitter  form  ;  and  neither 
will  this  transformation,  nor  kindred  transformations  to  come 
hereafter,  destroy  that  which  is  transformed,  any  more  than 
past  transformations  have  destroyed  it. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

DISCIPLINE. 

In  the  foregoing  eight  chai^ters  we  have  contemplated, 
under  their  several  heads,  those  '"  Dithculties  of  the  Social 
Science  "  which  the  chapter  bearing  that  title  indicated  in  a 
general  way.  After  thus  warning  the  student  against  Ibo 
errors  he  is  liable  to  fall  into,  partly  because  of  the  natiire  of 
the  phenomena  themselves  and  the  conditions  the}'  are  i)re- 
sented  under,  and  partly  because  of  his  own  nature  as  observer 
of  them,  which  by  both  its  original  and  its  acquired  charac- 
ters causes  twists  of  perception  and  judgment ;  it  now  remains 
to  say  something  about  the  needful  preliminary  studies.  I  do 
not  refer  to  studies  furnishing  the  requisite  data  ;  but  I  refer 
to  studies  giving  the  requisite  discipline.  Right  thinking  in 
any  matter  depends  very  nuich  on  the  habit  of  thought;  and 
the  habit  of  thought,  i)artly  natural,  depends  in  ])art  on  the 
artificial  inlhiences  to  which  the  mind  has  been  subjected. 

As  certainly  as  each  person  has  peculiarities  of  bodily 
action  that  distinguish  liim  from  his  fellows,  so  certainly  has 
lie  peculiarities  of  mental  action  that  give  a  character  to  his 
conceptions.  There  are  tricks  of  thought  as  well  as  tricks  of 
muscular  movement.  There  are  acquired  mental  aptitudes  for 
seeing  things  under  particular  aspects,  as  there  are  acquired 
bodily  aptitudes  for  going  through  evolutions  after  i)articular 
ways.  And  there  are  intellectual  jierversities  ])roduced  by 
certain  modes  of  treating  the  mind,  as  .there  arc  incurable 
awkvvardnes.ses  duv  to  certain  physical  activities  daily  re- 
peated. 

E.ich  kind  of  mrntal  <lis('ii)line,  besides  its  direct  ell'ects  on 
the  facultif'S  brought  in(o  pl;iy,  has  its  indirect  (>HVcts  on  the 
faculties  Icfl  out  of  pl.iy  ;  .-md  when   special   henelit  is  gained 


DISCIPLINE.  28Y 

by  extreme  special  discipline,  there  is  inevitably  more  or  less 
general  mischief  entailed  on  the  rest  of  the  mind  by  the  con- 
sequent want  of  discipline.  That  antagonism  between  body 
and  brain  which  we  see  in  those  wlio,  pushing  brain-activity 
to  an  extreme,  enfeeble  their  bodies,  and  those  who,  pushing 
bodily  activity  to  an  extreme,  make  their  brains  inert,  is  an 
antagonism  which  holds  between  the  parts  of  the  body  itself 
and  the  parts  of  the  brain  itself.  The  greater  bulk  and  strengtli 
of  the  right  arm  resulting  from  its  greater  use,  and  the  greater 
aptitvide  of  the  right  hand,  are  instances  in  point ;  and  that 
the  relative  incapacity  of  the  left  hand,  involved  by  cultivat- 
ing the  capacity  of  the  right  hand,  would  become  still  more 
marked  were  the  right  hand  to  undertake  all  manipulation,  is 
obvious.  The  like  holds  among  the  mental  faculties.  The 
fundamental  antagonism  between  feeling  and  cognition,  run- 
ning down  through  all  actions  of  the  mind,  from  the  conflicts 
between  emotion  and  reason  to  the  conflicts  between  sensa- 
tion and  perception,  is  the  largest  illustration.  We  meet  with 
a  kindred  antagonism  among  the  actions  of  the  intellect  itself, 
between  perceiving  and  reasoning.  Men  who  have  aptitudes 
for  accumulating  observations  are  rarely  men  given  to  gen- 
eralizing ;  while  men  given  to  generalizing  are  commonly 
men  who,  mostly  using  the  observations  of  others,  observe  for 
themselves  less  from  love  of  particular  facts  than  from  desiie 
to  put  such  facts  to  use.  We  may  trace  the  antagonism  within 
even  a  narrower  range,  between  general  reasoning  and  special 
reasoning.  One  prone  to  far-reaching  speculations  rarely  pur- 
sues to  much  purpose  those  investigations  by  which  particular 
truths  are  reached ;  while  the  scientific  specialist  ordinarily 
has  but  litlle  tendency  to  occupy  himself  with  wide  views. 

No  more  is  needed  to  make  it  clear  that  habits  of  thought 
result  from  particular  kinds  of  mental  activity  ;  and  that  each 
man's  habits  of  thought  influence  his  judgment  on  any  ques- 
tion brought  before  him.  It  will  be  obvious,  too,  that  in  pro- 
portion as  the  question  is  involved  and  many-sided,  the  habit 
of  thouglit  must  be  a  more  important  factor  in  determining 
the  conclusion  arrived  at.  Where  the  subject-matter  is  sim- 
ple, as  a  geometrical  truth  or  a  mechanical  action,  and  has 
therefore  not  many  difl'erent  aspects,  perversions  of  view  con- 
sequent on  intellectual  attitude  are  comparatively  few ;  but 


U' 


288  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

where  the  subject-matter  is  complex  and  heterogeneous,  and 
admits  of  being  mentally  seen  in  countless  dilferent  "ways, 
the  intellectual  attitude  affects  very  greatly  the  form  of  the 
conception. 

A  lit  habit  of  thought,  then,  is  all-important  in  the  study 
of  Sociology ;  and  a  fit  habit  of  thought  can  be  acquired  only 
by  study  of  the  Sciences  at  large.  For  Sociology  is  a  science 
in  which  the  phenomena  of  all  other  sciences  are  included. 
It  presents  those  necessities  of  relation  with  which  the  Ab- 
stract Sciences  deal ;  it  presents  those  connexions  of  cause 
and  effect  which  the  Abstract-Concrete  Sciences  familiarize 
the  student  with ;  and  it  presents  that  concurrence  of  many 
causes  and  production  of  contingent  results,  which  the  Con- 
crete Sciences  show  us,  but  which  we  are  shown  especially  by 
the  organic  sciences.  Hence,  to  acquire  the  habit  of  thought 
conducive  to  right  thinking  in  Sociology,  the  mind  must  be 
familiarized  with  the  fundamental  ideas  which  each  class  of 
sciences  brings  into  view  ;  and  must  not  be  possessed  by  those 
of  any  one  class,  or  any  two  classes,  of  sciences. 

That  this  may  be  better  seen,  let  me  briefly  indicate  the 
indispensable  discipline  which  each  class  of  sciences  gives  to 
the  intellect ;  and  also  the  wrong  intellectual  habits  produced 
if  that  class  of  sciences  is  studied  exclusively. 

Entire  absence  of  training  in  the  Abstract  Sciences,  leaves 
the  mind  without  due  sense  of  necessity  of  relation.  Watch 
the  mental  movements  of  the  wholly-ignorant,  before  whom 
tliere  liavo  been  brought  not  even  those  exact  and  fixed  con- 
nexions which  Arithmetic  exliibits,  and  it  will  be  seen  that 
they  have  nothing  like  irresistible  convictions  that  from 
given  data  tliere  is  an  inevitable  inference.  That  which  to 
you  has  tlie  aspect  of  a  certainty,  seems  to  tliem  not  free  from 
doubt.  Even  men  wliose  educations  have  made  numerical 
processes  and  results  tolerably  familiar,  will  show  in  a  case 
where  the  implication  is  logical  only,  that  they  have  not  ab- 
sohiteconfidcticc  in  the  dependence  of  conclusion  on  premisses. 

Unshakeahle  beliefs  in  necessities  of  relation,  are  to  be 
gained  only  by  studying  the  Al)stra<-t  Sci<'nces.  T^ogic  and 
Matlienuitics.  Dealing  with  necessities  <»f  rei.ition  of  the  sim- 
plest class,  Logic  is  of  some  service  to  this  end  ;  though  often 


DISCIPLINE.  289 

of  less  service  tliau  it  miglit  be,  for  the  reason  that  the  sym- 
bols used  are  not  translated  into  thoughts,  and  hence  the  con- 
nexions stated  are  not  really  represented.  Only  when,  for  a 
logical  implication  expressed  in  the  abstract,  there  is  sub- 
stituted an  example  so  far  concrete  that  the  inter-dependencies 
can  be  contemplated,  is  there  an  exercise  of  the  mental  power 
by  which  logical  necessity  is  grasped.  Of  the  discipline  given 
by  Mathematics,  also,  it  is  to  be  remarked  that  the  habit  of 
dealing  with  necessities  of  numerical  relation,  though  in  a 
degree  useful  for  cultivating  the  consciousness  of  necessity,  is 
not  in  a  high  degree  useful ;  because,  in  the  immense  majority 
of  cases,  the  mind,  occupied  with  the  symbols  used,  and  not 
passing  beyond  them  to  the  groups  of  units  they  stand  for, 
does  not  really  figure  to  itself  the  relations  expressed — does 
not  really  discern  their  necessities  ;  and  has  not  therefore  the 
conception  of  necessity  perpetually  repeated.  It  is  the  more 
special  division  of  Mathematics,  dealing  with  Space-relations, 
which  above  all  other  studies  yields  necessary  ideas ;  and  so 
makes  strong  and  definite  the  consciousness  of  necessity  in 
general.  A  geometrical  demonstration  time  after  time  pre- 
sents premisses  and  conclusion  in  such  wise  that  the  relation 
alleged  is  seen  in  thought — cannot  be  passed  over  by  mere 
symbolization.  Each  step  exhibits  some  connexion  of  posi- 
tions or  quantities  as  one  that  could  not  be  otherwise ;  and 
hence  the  habit  of  taking  such  steps  makes  the  consciousness 
of  such  connexions  familiar  and  vivid. 

But  while  mathematical  discipline,  and  especially  disci- 
pline in  Geometry,  is  extremely  useful,  if  not  indispensable,  as 
a  means  of  preparing  the  mind  to  recognize  throughout  Nature 
the  absoluteness  of  uniformities ;  it  is,  if  exclusively  or  too- 
habitually  pursued,  apt  to  produce  perversions  of  general 
thought.  Inevitably  it  establishes  a  special  bent  of  mind ; 
and  inevitably  this  special  bent  affects  all  the  intellectual 
actions — causes  a  tendency  to  look  in  a  mathematical  way  at 
matters  beyond  the  range  of  Mathematics.  The  mathemati- 
cian is  ever  dealing  with  phenomena  of  which  the  elements 
are  relatively  few  and  definite.  His  most  involved  problem 
is  immeasurably  less  involved  than  are  the  problems  of  the 
Concrete  Sciences.  Bvit,  when  considering  these,  he  cannot 
help  thinking  after  his  habitual  way :  in  dealing  with  ques- 


290  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

tions  -which  the  Concrete  Sciences  present,  he  recognizes  some 
few  only  of  the  factors,  tacitly  ascribes  to  these  a  definiteness 
wliich  they  have  not,  and  pi'oceeds  after  tlie  mathematical 
manner  to  di'aw  positive  conclusions  from  these  data,  as 
though  they  were  specific  and  adequate. 

Hence  the  truth,  so  often  illustrated,  that  mathematicians 
are  bad  reasoners  on  contingent  matters.  To  older  illustra- 
tions may  be  added  the  recent  one  yielded  by  M.  Michel 
Chasles,  who  proved  himself  incapable  as  a  judge  of  evidence 
in  the  matter  of  the  Newton-Pascal  forgeries.  Another  was 
supplied  by  the  late  Professor  De  Morgan,  who,  bringing  his 
mentiil  eye  to  bear  with  microscoj^ic  power  on  some  small  part 
of  a  question,  ignored  its  main  featui'es. 

By  cultivation  of  the  Abstract-Concrete  Sciences,  there  is 
produced  a  further  habit  of  thought,  not  othei'wise  produced, 
which  is  essential  to  right  thinking  in  general ;  and,  by  im- 
plication, to  right  thinking  in  Sociology.  Familiarity  with 
the  various  orders  of  physical  and  chemical  phenomena,  gives 
distinctness  and  strength  to  the  consciousness  of  cause  and 
effect. 

Experiences  of  things  around  do,  indeed,  yield  conceptions 
of  special  forces  and  of  force  in  general.  The  uncultm-ed  get 
from  these  experiences,  degrees  of  faith  in  causation  such  that 
wliere  they  see  some  striking  effect  tliey  usually  assume  an 
adequate  cause,  and  where  a  cause  of  given  amount  is  mani- 
fest, a  proportionate  effect  is  looked  for.  Especially  is  this  so 
where  the  actions  are  simi)le  mechanical  actions.  Still,  these 
impressions  which  daily  life  furnishes,  if  unaided  by  those  de- 
rived from  physical  science,  leave  the  mind  with  but  vague 
ideas  of  causal  relations.  It  needs  but  to  remember  the  readi- 
ness with  which  people  accept  the  alleged  facts  of  the  Spiritu- 
alists, many  of  which  imply  a  direct  negation  of  the  mechan- 
ical axiom  that  action  and  reaction  arc  equal  ai\d  ojiposito,  to 
see  how  much  the  ordinary  thoughts  of  causation  lack  quan- 
titiitivene.s.s — lack  the  idea  of  pro^iortion  between  amount  of 
force  expended  atid  amount  of  change  wrought.  Very  gen- 
erally, too,  (he  ordinary  thoughts  of  causation  are  not  even 
(jtialitativ(dy  valid:  the  most  absurd  notions  as  to  what  causes 
will  produce  what  effect  are  frequently  disclosed.     Take,  for 


DISCIPLINE.  291 

instance,  the  popular  belief  that  a  goat  kept  in  a  stable  will 
preserve  the  health  of  the  horses ;  and  note  how  this  belief, 
accepted  on  the  authority  of  grooms  and  coachmen,  is  repeated 
by  their  educated  employers — as  I  lately  heard  it  repeated  by 
an  American  general,  and  agreed  in  by  two  retired  English 
officials.  Clearly,  the  readiness  to  admit,  on  such  evidence, 
that  such  a  cause  can  produce  such  an  effect,  implies  a  con- 
sciousness of  causation  which,  even  qualitatively  considered, 
is  of  the  crudest  kind.  And  such  a  consciousness  is,  indeed, 
everywhere  betrayed  by  the  superstitions  traceable  among  all 
classes. 

Hence  we  must  infer  that  the  uncompared  and  unanalyzed 
observations  men  make  in  the  course  of  their  dealings  with 
things  around,  do  not  suffice  to  give  them  wholly-rational 
ideas  of  the  process  of  things.  It  requires  that  physical  actions 
shall  be  critically  examined,  the  factors  and  results  measured, 
and  different  cases  contrasted,  before  there  can  be  reached 
clear  ideas  of  necessary  causal  dependence.  And  thus  to  in- 
vestigate physical  actions  is  the  business  of  the  Abstract-Con- 
crete Sciences.  Every  experiment  which  the  physicist  or  the 
chemist  makes,  brings  afresh  before  his  consciousness  the 
truth,  given  countless  times  in  his  previous  experiences,  that 
from  certain  antecedents  of  particular  kinds  there  will  inevi- 
tably follow  a  particular  Idnd  of  consequent ;  and  that  from 
certain  amounts  of  the  antecedents,  the  amount  of  the  conse- 
quent will  be  inevitably  so  much.  The  habit  of  thought  gen- 
erated by  these  hourly-repeated  experiences,  always  the  same, 
always  exact,  is  one  which  makes  it  impossible  to  think  of  any 
effect  as  arising  without  a  cause,  or  any  cause  as  expended 
without  an  efPect ;  and  one  which  makes  it  impossible  to  think 
of  an  effect  out  of  proportion  to  its  cause,  or  a  cause  out  of 
proportion  to  its  effect. 

While,  however,  study  of  the  Abstract-Concrete  Sciences 
carried  on  experimentally,  gives  clearness  and  strength  to  the 
consciousness  of  causation,  taken  alone  it  is  inadequate  as  a 
discipline ;  and  if  pursued  exclusively,  it  generates  a  habit  of 
thought  which  betrays  into  erroneous  conclusions  when  higher 
orders  of  phenomena  are  dealt  with.  The  process  of  physical 
inquiry  is  essentially  analytical ;  and  the  daily  pursuit  of  this 
process  generates  two  tendencies — the  tendency  to  contemplate 


292  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

singly  those  factors  which  it  is  the  aim  to  disentangle  and 
identify'  and  measure  ;  and  the  tendencj^  to  rest  in  the  results 
reached,  as  though  they  were  the  final  results  to  be  sought. 
The  chemist,  by  saturating,  neutralizing,  decomposing,  pre- 
cipitating, and  at  last  separating,  is  enabled  to  measure  what 
quantity  of  this  element  had  been  held  in  combination  by  a 
given  quantity  of  that ;  and  when,  by  some  alternative  course 
of  analysis,  he  has  verified  the  i-esult,  his  inquiry  is  in  so  far 
concluded  :  as  are  kindred  inquiries  respecting  other  affinities 
of  the  element,  when  these  are  qualitatively  and  quantitatively 
determined.  His  habit  is  to  get  rid  of,  or  neglect  as  nmch  as 
possible,  the  concomitant  disturbing  factors,  that  he  may  ascer- 
tain the  nature  and  amount  of  some  one,  and  then  of  some 
other;  and  his  end  is  achieved  when  accounts  have  been 
given  of  all  the  factors,  individually  considered.  So  is  it,  too, 
with  the  physicist.  Say  the  problem  is  the  propagation  of 
sound  through  air,  and  the  interprctiition  of  its  velocity — say, 
that  the  velocity  as  calculated  by  Newton  is  found  less  by  one- 
sixth  than  observation  gives :  and  that  Laplace  sets  himself  to 
explain  the  anomaly.  He  recognizes  the  evolution  of  heat  by 
the  compression  which  each  sound-wave  produces  in  the  air ; 
finds  tlie  extra  velocity  consequent  on  this ;  adds  this  to  the 
velocity  previously  calculated  ;  finds  the  result  answer  to  the 
observed  fact;  and  then,  having  resolved  the  phenomenon 
into  its  components  and  measured  them,  considers  his  task 
concluded.  So  throughout :  the  habit  is  that  of  identifying, 
parting,  and  estimating  factors;  and  stopping  after  having 
done  this  completely. 

This  habit,  carried  into  the  interprctalion  of  things  at  large, 
afi"ects  it  somewhat  as  the  malhcmatic;il  habit  alfocts  it.  It 
tends  towards  the  formation  of  unduly-simple  and  unduly- 
definite  conceptions  ;  and  it  encourages  the  natural  propensity 
to  be  content  with  proximate  results.  Tlie  daily  i)ractice  of 
dealing  witli  single  factors  of  phcnomona,  and  witli  factors 
ci)nii)licatc(l  l)y  but  few  others,  and  witli  factors  ideally  sepa- 
rated from  their  combinations,  inevitably  gives  to  the  thoughts 
about  surrounding  tilings  an  analytic  rather  than  a  synthetic 
rliunicter.  It  i)ri»iu(»tfs  the  coii(i'iii|)luti(>n  of  sim])le  causes 
apart  from  the  eiitaiiglcil  jtlc.vu.'i  of  co-operating  caus(>.s  which 
all  the  higher  natural  phenomena  show  us ;  and  begets  a  ten- 


DISCIPLINE.  293 

dency  to  suppose  that  when  the  results  of  such  simple  causes 
have  been  exactly  determined,  nothing  remains  to  be  asked. 

Physical  science,  then,  though  indispensable  as  a  means  of 
developing  the  consciousness  of  causation  in  its  simple  definite 
forms,  and  thus  preparing  the  mind  for  dealing  with  complex 
causation,  is  not  sufficient  of  itself  to  make  complex  causation 
truly  comprehensible.  In  illustration  of  its  inadequacy,  I 
mifht  name  a  distinguished  mathematician  and  physicist 
whose  achievements  place  him  in  the  fiLrst  rank,  but  who, 
nevertheless,  when  entering  on  questions  of  concrete  science, 
where  the  data  are  no  longer  few  and  exact,  has  repeatedly 
shown  defective  judgment.  Choosing  premisses  w^hich,  to  say 
the  least,  were  gratuitous  and  in  some  cases  improbable,  he  has 
proceeded  by  exact  methods  to  draw  definite  conclusions  ;  and 
has  then  enunciated  those  conclusions  as  though  they  had  a 
certainty  proportionate  to  the  exactness  of  his  methods. 

The  kind  of  discipline  which  affords  the  needful  corrective, 
is  the  discipline  which  the  Concrete  Sciences  give.  Study  of 
the  forms  of  phenomena,  as  in  Logic  and  Mathematics,  is 
needful  but  by  no  means  sufficient.  Study  of  the  factor's  of 
phenomena,  as  in  Mechanics,  Physics,  Chemistry,  is  also 
essential,  but  not  enough  by  itself,  or  enough  even  joined 
with  study  of  the  forms.  Study  of  the  products  themselves, 
in  their  totalities,  is  no  less  necessary.  Exclusive  attention  to 
forms  and  factors  not  only  fails  to  give  right  conceptions  of 
products,  but  even  tends  to  make  the  conceptions  of  products 
wrong.  The  analytical  habit  of  mind  has  to  be  supplemented 
by  the  synthetical  habit  of  mind.  Seen  in  its  proper  place, 
analysis  has  for  its  chief  function  to  prepare  the  way  for  syn- 
thesis :  and  to  keep  a  due  mental  balance,  there  must  be  not 
only  a  recognition  of  the  truth  that  synthesis  is  the  end  to 
which  analysis  is  the  means,  but  there  must  also  be  a  practice 
of  synthesis  along  with  a  practice  of  analysis. 

All  the  Concrete  Sciences  familiarize  the  mind  w^ith  certain 
cardinal  conceptions  which  the  Abstract  and  Abstract-Con- 
crete Sciences  do  not  yield— the  conceptions  of  continuity^ 
complexity,  and  contingency.  The  simplest  of  the  Concrete 
Sciences,  Astronomy  and  Geology,  yield  the  idea  of  continuity 
with  great  distinctness.    I  do  not  mean  continuity  of  existence 


294:  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

merely ;  I  mean  continuity  of  causation :  the  unceasing  pro- 
duction of  effect — the  never-ending  work  of  every  force.  On 
the  mind  of  the  astronomer  tliere  is  vividly  impressed  the  idea 
that  any  one  planet  which  has  been  drawn  out  of  its  coui*se 
by  another  planet,  or  by  a  combination  of  others,  will  through 
all  future  time  follow  a  route  different  from  that  it  would 
have  followed  but  for  the  perturbation  ;  and  he  recognizes  its 
reaction  upon  the  perturbing  planet  or  planets,  as  similarly 
having  effects  which,  while  ever  being  complicated  and  ever 
slowly  diffused,  will  never  be  lost  during  the  immeasurable 
periods  to  come.  So,  too,  the  geologist  sees  in  each  change 
^vrought  on  the  Earth's  crust,  by  igneous  or  aqueous  action,  a 
new  factor  that  goes  on  perpetually  modifying  all  subsequent 
changes.  An  upheaved  portion  of  sea-bottom  alters  the  courses 
of  ocean-curi'ents,  modihes  the  climates  of  adjacent  lands,  af- 
fects their  rain-falls  and  prevailing  winds,  their  denudations 
and  the  deposits  round  their  coasts,  their  floras  and  faunas ; 
and  these  effects  severally  become  causes  that  act  unceasingly 
in  ever-multiplying  ways.  Always  there  is  traceable  the  per- 
sistent working  of  each  force,  and  the  progressive  complica- 
tion of  the  results  through  succeeding  geologic  epochs. 

These  conceptions,  not  yielded  at  all  by  the  Abstract  and 
Abstract-Concrete  Sciences,  and  jnelded  by  the  inorganic  Con- 
crete Sciences  in  ways  which,  though  unquestionable,  do  not 
arrest  attention,  are  yielded  in  clear  and  striking  ways  by  the 
organic  Concrete  Sciences — the  sciences  that  deal  with  living 
things.  Every  organism,  if  we  read  the  lesson  it  gives,  shows 
us  continuity  of  causation  and  complexity  of  causation.  The 
ordinary  facts  of  inheritance  illustrate  contiiuiity  of  causa- 
tion— very  conspicuously  where  varieties  so  distinct  as  negro 
and  white  are  united,  and  where  traces  of  the  negro  come  out 
generation  after  generation  ;  and  still  better  among  domestic 
animals,  where  traits  of  rcmole  ancesti-y  show  the  ]iorsislont 
working  of  cau.ses  which  date  far  back.  Organic  phenomena 
make  us  familiar  with  complexity  of  causation,  both  by  show- 
ing the  co-operation  of  many  antecedents  to  each  consequent, 
and  by  showing  tlie  multiijlicity  of  results  which  each  in- 
fluence works  out.  If  we  ob.serve  how  a  given  weight  of  a 
given  drug  jjroduces  on  no  two  persons  exactly  like  effects, 
and  i)rocluces  even  on  the  sanac  person  diiferent  effects  in  dif- 


DISCIPLINE.  295 

ferent  constitutional  states ;  we  see  at  once  how  involved  is 
the  combination  of  factors  by  which  the  changes  in  an  organ- 
ism are  brought  about,  and  how  extremely  contingent,  there- 
fore, is  each  particular  change.  And  we  need  but  watch  what 
happens  after  an  injury,  say  of  the  foot,  to  perceive  how,  if 
permanent,  it  alters  the  gait,  alters  the  adjustment  and  bend 
of  the  body,  alters  the  movements  of  the  arms,  alters  the  fea- 
tures into  some  contracted  form  accompanying  pain  or  incon- 
venience. Indeed,  through  the  re-adjustments,  muscular, 
nervous,  and  visceral,  which  it  entails,  this  local  damage  acts 
and  re-acts  on  function  and  structure  throughout  the  whole 
body  :  producing  effects  which,  as  they  diffuse,  complicate  in- 
calculably. 

While,  in  multitudinous  ways,  the  Science  of  Life  thrusts 
on  the  attention  of  the  student  the  cardinal  notions  of  con- 
tinuity, and  complexity,  and  contingency,  of  causation,  it  in- 
troduces him  to  a  further  conception  of  moment,  which  the 
inorganic  Concrete  Sciences  do  not  furnish — the  conception 
of  what  we  may  call  fructifying  causation.  For  as  it  is  a 
distinction  between  living  and  not-living  bodies  that  the  first 
propagate  while  the  second  do  not ;  it  is  also  a  distinction  be- 
tween them  that  certain  actions  which  go  on  in  the  first  are 
cumulative,  instead  of  being,  as  in  the  second,  dissipative. 
Not  only  do  organisms  as  wholes  reproduce,  and  so  from  small 
beginnings  reach,  by  multiplication,  great  results ;  but  com- 
ponents of  them,  normal  and  morbid,  do  the  like.  Thus  a 
minute  portion  of  a  virus  introduced  into  an  organism,  does 
not  work  an  effect  proportionate  to  its  amount,  as  would  an 
inorganic  agent  on  an  inorganic  mass ;  but  by  appropriating 
materials  from  the  blood  of  the  organism,  and  thus  immensely 
increasing,  it  works  effects  altogether  out  of  proportion  to  its 
amount  as  originally  introduced— effects  which  may  continue 
with  accumulating  power  throughout  the  remaining  life  of 
the  organism.  It  is  so  with  internally-evolved  agencies  as 
well  as  with  externally-invading  agencies.  A  portion  of 
germinal  matter,  itself  microscopic,  may  convey  from  a  parent 
some  constitutional  peculiarity  that  is  infinitesimal  in  relation 
even  to  its  minute  bulk  ;  and  from  this  there  may  arise,  fifty 
years  afterwards,  govit  or  insanity  in  the  resulting  man  :  after 
this  great  lapse  of  time,  slowly  increasing  actions  and  prod- 


296  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

ucts  show  themselves  in  large  derangements  of  function  and 
structm*e.  And  this  is  a  trait  characteristic  of  organic  phenom- 
ena. While  from  the  destructive  changes  going  on  tlu'ough- 
out  the  tissues  of  living  bodies,  there  is  a  continual  production 
of  effects  which  lose  themselves  by  subdivision,  as  do  the 
effects  of  inorganic  forces ;  there  arise  from  those  constructive 
changes  going  on  in  them,  by  which  living  bodies  are  distin- 
guished from  not-living  bodies,  certain  classes  of  effects  which 
increase  as  they  diffuse — go  on  augmenting  in  volume  as  well 
as  in  variety. 

Thus,  as  a  discipline,  study  of  the  Science  of  Life  is  essen- 
tial ;  partly  as  familiarizing  the  mind  with  the  cardinal  ideas 
of  continuity,  complexity,  and  contingency,  of  causation,  in 
clearer  and  more  various  ways  than  do  the  other  Concrete 
Sciences,  and  partly  as  familiarizing  the  mind  with  the  cai'di- 
nal  idea  of  fructifying  causation,  which  the  other  Concrete 
Sciences  do  not  present  at  all.  Not  that,  pursued  exclusively, 
the  Organic  Sciences  will  yield  these  conceptions  in  clear 
forms  :  there  I'cquires  a  familiarity  with  the  Abstract-Concrete 
Sciences  to  give  the  requisite  grasp  of  simple  causation. 
Studied  by  themselves,  the  Organic  Sciences  tend  rather  to 
make  the  ideas  of  causation  cloudy ;  for  the  reason  that  the 
entanglement  of  the  factors  and  the  contingency  of  the  results 
is  so  great,  that  definite  relations  of  antecedents  and  conse- 
quents cannot  be  established :  the  two  are  laot  prcsoiitod  in 
such  connexions  as  to  make  the  conception  of  causal  action, 
qualitative  and  quantitative,  sufficiently  distinct.  There  re- 
quires, first,  the  disci])Iine  yielded  by  Physics  and  Chemistry, 
to  make  deiinite  the  ideas  of  forces  and  actions  as  necessarily 
related  in  their  kinds  and  amounts  ;  and  then  the  study  of  or- 
ganic phenomena  maybe  carried  on  witli  a  clear  conscious- 
ness that  while  tlie  i)rocesses  of  causation  are  so  involvcnl  as 
often  to  bo  iii('X])]icable,  yet  there  is  causation,  no  less  neces- 
sary and  no  less  exact  than  causation  oi  simpler  kinds. 

And  now  to  apply  these  considerations  on  nicrital  discijilino 
to  our  iiniHedijilc  topic.  For  the  circcliial  study  of  Sociology 
there  needs  a  habit  of  t]i<night  generated  by  the  studies  of  all 
these  sciences — not,  of  course,  an  exhaustive,  or  even  a  very 
ex tcn.sive,  study ;  l)ut  siidi   a  study  as  sliall  give  a  grasp  of 


DISCIPLINE.  297 

the  cardinal  ideas  they  severally  yield.  For,  as  already  said, 
social  phenomena  involve  phenomena  of  every  order. 

That  there  are  necessities  of  relation  such  as  those  with 
which  the  Abstract  Sciences  deal,  cannot  be  denied  when  it  is 
seen  that  societies  present  facts  of  number  and  quantity.  That 
the  actions  of  men  in  society,  in  all  their  movements  and  pro- 
ductive processes,  must  conform  to  the  laws  of  the  physical 
forces,  is  also  indisputable.  And  that  everything  thought  and 
felt  and  done  in  the  course  of  social  life,  is  thought  and  felt 
and  done  in  hai-mony  with  the  laws  of  individual  life,  is  also 
a  truth — almost  a  truism,  indeed ;  though  one  of  which  few 
seem  conscious. 

Scientific  culture  in  general,  then,  is  needful ;  and  above 
all,  culture  of  the  Science  of  Life.  This  is  more  especially 
requisite,  however,  because  the  conceptions  of  continuity, 
complexity,  and  contingency  of  causation,  as  well  as  the  con- 
ception of  fructifying  causation,  are  conceptions  common  to 
it  and  to  the  Science  of  Society.  It  affords  a  specially-fit  dis- 
cipline, for  the  reason  that  it  alone  among  the  sciences  pro- 
duces familiarity  with  these  cardinal  ideas — i^resents  the  data 
for  them  in  forms  easily  grasped,  and  so  jjrepares  the  mind  to 
recognize  the  data  for  them  in  the  Social  Science,  where  they 
are  less  easily  grasped,  though  no  less  constantly  presented. 

The  supreme  importance  of  this  last  kind  of  culture,  how- 
ever, is  not  to  be  adequately  shown  by  this  brief  statement. 
For  besides  generating  habits  of  thought  appropriate  to  the 
study  of  the  Social  Science,  it  furnishes  special  conceptions 
which  serve  as  keys  to  the  Social  Science.  The  Science  of 
Life  yields  to  the  Science  of  Society,  certain  great  generaliza- 
tions without  which  there  can  be  no  Science  of  Society  at  all. 
Let  us  go  on  to  observe  the  relations  of  the  two. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

PREPARATION  IN  BIOLOGY. 

The  parable  of  tlie  sower  has  its  application  to  the  progress 
of  Science.  Time  after  time  new  ideas  are  sown  and  do  not 
germinate,  or,  having  germinated,  die  for  lack  of  fit  environ- 
ments, before  they  are  at  last  sown  under  such  conditions  as 
to  take  root  and  flourish.  Among  other  instances  of  this,  one 
is  supplied  by  the  history  of  the  truth  here  to  be  dwelt  on — 
the  dependence  of  Sociology  on  Biology. )  Even  limiting  the 
search  to  our  own  society,  we  may  trace  back  this  idea  nearly 
three  centuries.  In  the  first  book  of  Hooker's  Ecclesiastical 
Polity,  it  is  enunciated  as  clearly  as  the  state  of  knowledge  in 
his  age  made  possible — more  clearly,  indeed,  than  was  to  be 
expected  in  an  age  when  science  and  scientific  ways  of  think- 
ing had  advanced  so  little.  Along  with  the  general  notion  of 
natural  law — along,  too,  with  the  admission  tliat  human  ac- 
tions, resulting  as  they  do  fi'om  desires  guided  by  knowledge, 
also  in  a  sense  conform  to  law ;  there  is  a  recognition  of  the 
fact  that  the  formation  of  societies  is  determined  by  the  at- 
tributes of  individuals,  and  that  the  groAs-th  of  a  govei-n- 
mental  organization  follows  from  the  natures  of  the  men 
who  have  associated  themselves  the  better  to  satisfy  their 
needs.  Entangled  though  tliis  doctrine  is  with  a  tlieological 
doctrine,  through  the  restraints  of  wliich  it  has  to  break,  it  is 
(•xi)ress('d  with  considerable  clearness:  there  needs  ])ut  bettor 
definition  and  further  development  to  make  it  truly  scientilic. 

Among  re-aiijjearances  of  this  thought  in  subsequent  Eng- 
lish writers,  I  will  here  name  only  one,  which  T  hai)])en  to 
have  ob.served  in  An  Essay  on  the  History  of  Civil  Society, 
jjubli.slied  a  century  ago  by  Dr.  Adam  Ferguson.  In  it  the 
first  part  treats  "of  the  General  Characteristics  of  Human  Na- 

208 


PREPARATION  IN  BIOLOGY.  299 

tiire."  Section  I.,  pointing  out  the  universality  of  the  grega- 
rious tendency,  the  dependence  of  this  on  certain  affections 
and  antagonisms,  and  tlie  influences  of  memory,  foresight, 
language,  and  communicativeness,  alleges  that  "  these  facts 
must  be  admitted  as  the  foundation  of  all  our  reasoning  rela- 
tive to  man."  Though  the  way  in  which  social  phenomena 
arise  out  of  the  phenomena  of  individual  human  nature,  is 
seen  in  but  a  general  and  vague  way,  yet  it  is  seen — there  is  a 
conception  of  causal  relation. 

Before  this  conception  could  assume  a  definite  form,  it  was 
necessary  both  that  scientific  knowledge  should  become  more 
comj)rehensive  and  precise,  and  that  the  scientific  spirit  should 
be  strengthened.  To  M.  Comte,  living  when  these  conditions 
were  fulfilled,  is  due  the  credit  of  having  set  forth  with  com- 
parative definiteness,  the  connexion  between  the  Science  of 
Life  and  the  Science  of  Society.  He  saw  clearly  that  the  facts 
presented  by  masses  of  associated  men,  are  facts  of  the  same 
order  as  those  presented  by  groups  of  gregarious  creatures  of 
inferior  kinds  ;  and  that  in  the  one  case,  as  in  the  other,  the 
individuals  must  be  studied  before  the  assemblages  can  be 
understood.  He  therefore  placed  Biology  before  Sociology  in 
his  classification  of  the  sciences.  Biological  preparation  for 
sociological  study,  he  regarded  as  needful  not  only  because 
the  phenomena  of  corporate  life,  arising  out  of  the  phenomena 
of  individual  life,  can  be  riglitly  co-ordinated  only  after  the 
phenomena  of  individual  life  have  been  rightly  co-ordinated  ; 
but  also  because  the  methods  of  inquiry  which  Biology  uses, 
are  methods  to  be  used  by  Sociology.  In  various  ways,  which 
it  would  take  too  much  space  here  to  specify,  he  exhibits  this 
dependence  very  satisfactorily.  It  may,  indeed,  be  con- 

tended that  certain  of  his  other  beliefs  prevented  him  fi'om 
seeing  all  the  implications  of  this  dependence.  When,  for 
instance,  he  speaks  of  "  the  intellectual  anarchy  which  is  the 
main  source  of  our  moral  anarchy  " — when  he  thus  discloses 
the  faith,  pervading  his  Course  of  Positive  Philosophy,  that 
true  theory  would  bring  right  practice  ;  it  becomes  clear  that 
the  relation  between  the  attributes  of  citizens  and  the  phe- 
nomena of  societies  is  incorrectly  seen  by  him  ;  the  relation  is 
far  too  deep  a  one  to  be  changed  by  mere  change  of  ideas. 
Again,  denying,  as  he  did,  the  indefinite  modifiability  of  spe- 


300  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

cies,  he  almost  ignored  one  of  the  cardinal  truths  which  Biol- 
ogy yields  to  Sociology — a  truth  without  which  sociological 
interpretations  must  go  wrong.  Though  he  admits  a  certain 
niodiflability  of  Man,  both  emotional  and  intellectual,  yet  the 
dogma  of  the  fixity  of  species,  to  which  he  adhered,  kept  his 
conceptions  of  individual  and  social  change  within  limits 
much  too  specific.  Hence  arose,  among  other  erroneous  pre- 
"conceptions,  this  serious  one,  that  the  different  forms  of  so- 
ciety presented  by  savage  and  civilized  races  all  over  the 
globe,  are  but  different  stages  in  the  evolution  of  one  form : 
the  truth  being,  rather,  that  social  types,  like  types  of  indi- 
vidual organisms,  do  not  form  a  series,  but  are  classifiable 
only  in  divergent  and  I'e-divergent  groups.  Nor  did 

he  arrive  at  that  conception  of  the  Social  Science  which  alone 
fully  affiliates  it  upon  the  simpler  sciences — the  conception  of 
it  as  an  account  of  the  most  complex  forms  of  that  continu- 
ous I'edistribution  of  matter  and  motion  which  is  going  on 
universally.  Only  when  it  is  seen  that  the  transformations 
passed  through  during  the  gi'OAvth,  maturity,  and  decay  of  a 
society,  conform  to  the  same  principles  as  do  the  transforma- 
tiojis  passed  through  by  aggregates  of  all  orders,  inorganic 
and  organic — only  when  it  is  seen  that  the  process  is  in  all 
cases  similarly  determined  by  forces,  and  is  not  scientifically 
interpreted  until  it  is  expressed  in  terms  of  those  forces ; — 
only  then  is  tliere  reached  the  coneo])tion  of  Sociology  as  a 
science,  in  the  complete  meaning  of  the  word. 

Nevertheless,  we  must  not  overlook  the  greatness  of  the 
step  made  by  M.  Comte.  His  mode  of  contemplating  the 
facts  was  truly  philosophical.  Containing,  along  with  special 
views  not  to  be  adiiiittod,  many  thongbts  tliat  are  true  as  well 
as  large  and  suggestive,  the  introductory  chapters  to  his 
Sociolofpj  show  a  breadth  and  depth  of  conception  beyond 
any  previously  reached.  Apart  from  th^  tenability  of  his  so- 
ciological d(K'trin*'s,  his  way  f)f  conceiving  stxMal  ])b('Ti()m<>na 
was  much  superior  to  all  previous  ways :  and  among  otlier 
of  its  superiorities,  was  this  recognition  of  tlie  dependence  of 
Sociology  on  Biology. 

Here  leaving  the  history  of  this  idea,  let  us  turn  to  the 
idea  itsolf.  Tlierc  are  two  distinct  and  (>(|u;illy  iin])orlant 
ways  in   which   these  sciences  are   connected,     in    tiie   first 


PREPARATION   IN    BIOLOGY.  30I 

place,  all  social  actions  being  determined  by  the  actions  of 
individuals,  and  all  actions  of  individuals  being  vital  actions 
tluit  conform  to  the  laws  of  life  at  large,  a  rational  interpre- 
tation of  social  actions  implies  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  life. 
In  the  second  place,  a  society  as  a  whole,  considered  apart 
from  its  living  units,  presents  phenomena  of  growth,  struc- 
ture, and  function,  like  those  of  growth,  structure,  and  func- 
tion in  an  individual  body ;  and  these  last  are  needful  keys  to 
the  first.     We  will  begin  with  this  analogical  connexion. 

Figures  of  speech,  which  often  mislead  by  conveying  the 
notion  of  complete  likeness  where  only  slight  similarity  ex- 
ists, occasionally  mislead  by  making  an  actual  corresjjondence 
seem  a  fancy.  A  metaphor,  when  used  to  express  a  real  re- 
semblance, raises  a  suspicion  of  mere  imaginary  resemblance  ; 
and  so  obscures  the  perception  of  intrinsic  kinship.  It  is  thus 
with  the  phrases  "  body  politic,"  "  political  organization,"  and 
others,  which  tacitly  liken  a  society  to  a  living  ci'eature  :  they 
are  assumed  to  be  phrases  having  a  certain  convenience  but 
expressing  no  fact — tending  rather  to  foster  a  fiction.  And 
yet  metaphors  are  here  more  than  metaphors  in  the  ordinary 
sense.  They  are  devices  of  speech  hit  upon  to  suggest  a  truth 
at  first  dimly  perceived,  but  which  grows  clearer  the  more 
carefully  the  evidence  is  examined.  That  there  is  a  real  anal- 
ogy between  an  individual  organism  aiid  a  social  organism, 
becomes  undeniable  when  certain  necessities  determining 
structure  are  seen  to  govern  them  in  common. 

Mutual  dependence  of  parts  is  that  which  initiates  and 
guides  organization  of  every  kind.  So  long  as,  in  a  mass  of 
living  matter,  all  parts  are  alike,  and  all  parts  similarly  live 
and  grow  without  aid  from  one  another,  there  is  no  organiza- 
tion :  the  undifPerentiated  aggregate  of  protoplasm  thus 
characterized,  belongs  to  the  lowest  grade  of  living  things. 
Without  distinct  faculties,  and  capable  of  but  the  feeblest 
movements,  it  cannot  adjust  itself  to  circumstances ;  and  is  at 
the  mercy  of  environing  destructive  actions.  The  changes  by 
which  this  structureless  mass  becomes  a  structured  mass,  hav- 
ing the  characters  and  powers  possessed  by  what  we  call  an 
organism,  are  changes  through  which  its  parts  lose  their  orig- 
inal likenesses ;  and  do  this  while  assuming  the  unlike  kinds 


302  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

of  activity  for  which  their  respective  positions  towards  one 
another  and  surrounding  things  fit  them.  These  diiferences 
of  function,  and  consequent  diffei'ences  of  structui'e,  at  first 
feebly  mai'ked,  slight  in  degree,  and  few  in  kind,  become, 
as  organization  progresses,  definite  and  numerous ;  and 
in  proportion  as  they  do  this  the  requirements  are  better 
met.  Now  structural   ti'aits   expressible  in  the    same 

language,  distinguish  lower  and  higher  types  of  societies  from 
one  another ;  and  distinguish  the  earlier  stages  of  each  so- 
ciety from  the  later.  Primitive  ti'ibes  show  no  established 
contrasts  of  parts.  At  first  all  men  carry  on  the  same  kind  of 
activities,  with  no  dependence  on  one  another,  or  but  occa- 
sional dependence.  There  is  not  even  a  settled  chieftainship  ; 
and  only  in  times  of  war  is  there  a  spontaneous  and  temporary 
subordination  to  those  who  show  themselves  the  best  leadere. 
From  the  small  unformed  social  aggregates  thus  character- 
ized, the  progress  is  towards  social  aggregates  of  increased  size, 
the  parts  of  which  acquire  unlikenesses  that  become  ever 
greater,  more  definite,  and  more  multitudinous.  The  units  of 
the  society  as  it  evolves,  fall  into  dilferent  orders  of  activities, 
determined  by  diiferences  in  their  local  conditions  or  their 
individual  powers  ;  and  there  slowly  result  permanent  social 
structures,  of  which  the  primaiy  ones  become  decided  while 
they  are  being  complicated  by  secondary  ones,  growing  in 
their  turns  decided,  and  so  on. 

Even  were  this  all,  the  analogy  would  be  suggestive ;  but 
it  is  not  all.  These  two  metamorphoses  have  a  cause  in  com- 
mon. Beginning  with  an  animal  composed  of  like  parts, 
severally  living  l)y  and  for  themselves,  on  wliat  condition 
only  can  there  be  established  a  change,  such  tliat  one  part 
comes  to  perform  one  kind  of  function,  and  another  pnrt 
anotlier  kind  ?  Evidently  each  part  can  abandon  tliat  orig- 
inal state  in  wliich  it  fulfilled  for  itself  all  vital  needs,  and 
can  a.ssume  a  st;xtc  in  wliich  it  fulfils  in  excess  some  single 
vital  need,  only  if  its  other  vital  needs  are  fulfilled  for  it  by 
other  parts  that  liave  meanwhih?  uiidert'iken  other  special 
activities.  One  portion  of  a  living  aggregate  cannot  devote 
it.self  exclusively  to  the  respiratory  function,  nnd  cease  to  get 
nutriment  for  itself,  uidess  otlicr  portions  that  have  l)econio 
exclusively  CK'cupied  in  absorbing  nutriment,  give  it  a  duo 


PREPARATION  IN   BIOLOGY.  303 

su])ply.  That  is  to  say,  there  must  be  exchange  of  services. 
Organization  in  an  individual  creature  is  made  possible  only  by 
dependence  of  each  part  on  all,  and  of  all  on  each.  Now 

tliis  is  obviously  true  also  of  social  organization.  A  member 
of  a  primitive  society  cannot  devote  himself  to  an  order  of 
activity  which  satisfies  one  only  of  his  personal  wants,  thus 
ceasing  the  activities  requii-ed  for  satisfying  his  other  personal 
wants,  unless  those  for  whose  benefit  he  carries  on  his  special 
activity  in  excess,  give  him  in  return  the  benefits  of  their 
special  activities.  If  he  makes  weapons  instead  of  continuing 
a  hunter,  he  must  be  supplied  with  the  produce  of  the  chase 
on  condition  that  the  hunters  are  supplied  with  his  weapons. 
If  he  becomes  a  cultivator  of  the  soil,  no  longer  defending 
himself,  he  must  be  defended  by  those  who  have  become 
specialized  defenders.  That  is  to  say,  mutual  dependence  of 
l)arts  is  essential  for  the  commencement  and  advance  of  social 
organization,  as  it  is  for  the  commencement  and  advance  of 
individual  organization. 

Even  were  there  no  more  to  be  pointed  out,  it  would  be 
clear  enough  that  we  are  not  here  dealing  with  a  figurative 
resemblance,  but  with  a  fundamental  parallelism  in  principles 
of  structure.  We  have  but  begun  to  explore  the  analogy, 
however.  The  further  we  inquire,  the  closer  we  find  it  to  be. 
For  what,  let  us  ask,  is  implied  by  mutual  dependence — by 
exchange  of  services  ?  There  is  implied  some  mode  of  com- 
munication between  mutually-dependent  parts.  Parts  that 
perform  functions  for  one  another's  benefit,  must  have  appli- 
ances for  conveying  to  one  another  the  products  of  their 
respective  functions,  or  for  giving  to  one  another  the  benefits 
(when  these  are  not  material  products)  which  their  respective 
functions  achieve.  And  obviously,  in  proporti<jn  as  the 
organization  becomes  high,  the  appliances  for  carrying  on 
the  intercourse  m.ust  become  involved.  This  we  find  to  hold 
in  both  cases.  In  the  lowest  types  of  individual  organ- 

isms, the  exchange  of  services  between  the  sliglitlj'-dilferen- 
tiated  parts  is  effected  in  a  slow,  vague  way,  by  an  irregular 
diffusion  of  the  nutrient  matters  jointly  elaborated,  and  by  an 
irregular  propagation  of  feeble  stimuli,  causing  a  rude  co-ordi- 
nation in  the  actions  of  the  parts.  It  is  thus,  also,  with  small 
and  simple  social  aggregates.  No  deiinito  arrangements  for 
21 


304  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

iiiterchang-ing  services  exist ;  but  only  indefinite  ones.  Barter 
of  products — food,  skins,  weajions,  or  what  not — takes  place 
irregularly  between  individual  producers  and  consumers 
tlu'oug'hout  the  whole  social  body  :  there  is  no  trading  or  dis- 
tributing system,  as,  in  the  rudimentary  animal,  there  is  no 
vascular  system.  So,  too,  the  social  organism  of  low  type, 
like  the  individual  organism  of  low  type,  has  no  appli- 
ances for  combining  the  actions  of  its  remoter  parts.  When 
co-operation  of  them  against  an  enemy  is  called  for,  there 
is  nothing  but  the  spread  of  an  alarm  from  man  to  man 
throughout  the  scattered  population ;  just  as  in  an  unde- 
veloped kind  of  animal,  there  is  merely  a  slow  undirected 
diifusion  of  stimulus  from  one  point  to  all  others.  In 

either  case,  the  evolution  of  a  larger,  more  complex,  more 
active  organism,  implies  an  increasingly-efficient  set  of  agen- 
cies for  conveying  from  part  to  part  the  material  products  of 
the  respective  parts,  and  an  increasingly-efficient  set  of  agen- 
cies for  making  the  pai'ts  co-operate,  so  that  the  times  and 
amounts  of  their  activities  may  be  kept  in  fit  relations.  And 
this,  the  facts  everywhere  show  us.  In  the  individual  organ- 
ism as  it  advances  to  a  high  structure,  no  matter  of  what  class, 
tliere  arises  an  elaborate  system  of  channels  through  which 
the  common  stock  of  nutritive  matters  (here  added  to  by  ab- 
sorption, there  changed  by  secretion,  in  this  place  purified  by 
excretion,  and  in  another  modified  by  exchange  of  gases)  is 
distributed  throughout  tlie  body  for  the  feeding  of  the  various 
parts,  severally  occupiotl  in  their  special  actions ;  while  in  the 
social  organism  as  it  advances  to  a  high  structure,  no  matter 
of  what  political  tj^ie,  there  develops  an  extensive  and  com- 
plicated trading  organization  for  the  distribution  of  commod- 
ities, which,  sending  its  heterogeneous  currents  through  the 
kingdom  by  channels  that  end  in  retailers'  shop.s,  brings 
within  reach  of  eacli  citizen  the  necessaries  and  luxuries  that 
have  bf'fm  produced  by  oth(n*s,  while  he  lias  been  i)roducing 
liis  commodity  or  small  part  of  a  commodity,  or  ])crforniing 
some  other  function  or  small  part  of  a  function,  beneficial  to 
the  rest.  Similarly,  development  of  the  individual  organism, 
be  its  cla.ss  what  it  may,  is  always  accomi)anied  by  develop- 
ment of  a  nervous  system  whi<'li  renders  the  combined  actions 
of  the  parts  prompt  and  duly  i)roi)orlioned,  .so  making  po.ssible 


PREPARATION  IN   BIOLOGY.  305 

the  adjustments  required  for  meeting  the  varying  contingen- 
cies ;  while,  along  with  development  of  the  social  organism, 
there  always  goes  development  of  directive  centres,  general 
and  local,  with  established  arrangements  for  inter-changing 
information  and  instigation,  serving  to  adjust  the  rates  and 
kinds  of  activities  going  on  in  different  parts. 

Now  if  there  exists  this  fundamental  kinship,  there  can  be 
no  rational  apprehension  of  the  truths  of  Sociology  until  there 
has  been  reached  a  rational  apprehension  of  the  truths  of  Bi- 
1  ology.  The  services  of  the  two  sciences  are,  indeed,  recipro-*' 
J^\;al.  We  have  but  to  glance  back  at  its  progress,  to  seeThat 
Biology  owes  the  cardinal  idea  on  which  we  have  been  dwell-  lA^v^^ 
ing,  to  Sociolog}^;  and  that  having  derived  from  Sociology 
this  explanation  of  development,  it  gives  it  back  to  Sociology 
greatly  increased  in  definiteiiess,  enriched  by  countless  illus- 
trations, and  fit  for  extension  in  new  directions.  The  lumi- 
nous conception  first  set  forth  by  one  whom  we  may  claim  as 
our  countryman  by  blood,  though  French  by  birth,  M.  Milne- 
Edwards — the  conception  of  "the  physiological  division  of 
labour,"  obviously  originates  from  the  generalization  pre- 
viously reached  in  Political  Economy.  Recognition  of  the 
advantages  gained  by  a  society  when  different  groups  of  its 
members  devote  themselves  to  different  industries,  for  which 
they  acquire  special  aptitudes  and  surround  themselves  with 
special  facilities,  led  to  recognition  of  the  advantages  which 
an  individual,  organism  gains  when  parts  of  it,  originally 
alike  and  having  like  activities,  divide  these  activities  among 
them  ;  so  that  each  taking  a  special  kind  of  activity  acquires 
a  special  fitness  for  it.  But  when  carried  from  Soci- 

ology to  Biology,  this  conception  was  forthwith  gi'catly  ex- 
panded. Instead  of  being  limited  to  the  functions  included 
in  nutrition,  it  was  found  applicable  to  all  functions  what- 
ever. It  turned  out  that  the  arrangements  of  the  entire  or- 
ganism, and  not  of  the  viscera^alone,  conform  to  this  funda- 
mental principle — even  the  differences  arising  among  the 
limbs,  originally  alike,  were  seen  to  be  interpretable  by  it. 
And  then  mark  that  the  idea  thus  develoi^ed  into  an  all-em- 
bracing truth  in  Biology,  returns  to  Sociology  ready  to  be  for 
it,  too,  an  all-embracing  truth.  For  it  now  becomes  manifest 
that  not  to  industrial  arrangements  only  does  the  principle  of 


306  THE  STUDY   OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

the  division  of  labour  apply,  but  to  social  arrangements  in 
general.  The  progress  of  organization,  from  that  first  step  by 
which  there  arose  a  controlling  chief,  partially  distinguished 
by  his  actions  from  those  controlled,  has  been  everywhere 
the  same.  Be  it  in  the  growth  of  a  regulative  class  more  or 
less  marked  off  from  classes  regulated — be  it  in  the  partings 
of  this  regulative  class  into  political,  ecclesiastical,  etc. — be  it 
in  those  distinctions  of  duties  within  each  class  which  are  sig- 
nified by  gradations  of  rank  ;  we  may  trace  everywhere  that 
fundamental  law  shown  us  by  industrial  organization.  And 
when  we  have  once  adequately  gi'asped  this  truth  which  Bi- 
ology borrows  from  Sociology  and  returns  with  vast  interest, 
the  aggregate  of  phenomena  which  a  society  at  any  moment 
presents,  as  well  as  the  series  of  developmental  changes  through 
which  it  has  risen  to  them,  become  suddenly  illuminated,  and 
the  rationale  comparatively  clear. 

After  a  recognition  of  this  fundamental  kinship  there  can 
be  no  difficulty  in  seeing  how  important,  as  an  introduction 
to  the  study  of  social  life,  is  a  familiarization  with  the  ti'uths 
of  individual  life.  For  individual  life,  while  showing  us  this 
division  of  labour,  this  exchange  of  services,  in  many  and 
varied  ways,  shows  it  in  ways  easily  traced ;  because  the 
structures  and  functions  are  i^resented  in  directly-perceivable 
forms.  And  only  when  jnultitudinous  biological  examples 
have  stamped  on  the  mind  the  conception  of  a  growing  inter- 
dependence that  goes  along  witli  a  growing  specialization,  and 
liave  tlius  induced  a  habit  of  thought,  will  its  sociological 
a))i)lications  be  duly  appreciated. 

Turn  we  now  from  the  indirect  influence  which  Biology 
exerts  on  Sociology,  by  su])])lying  it  with  rational  conce])tions 
of  social  develo]iment  and  organization,  to  Wxq  direct  inlluence 
it  exerts  by  furnishing  an  adequate  theory  of  tlie  social  unit — 
Man.  For  while  Biologj'  is  mediately  connected  with  Soci- 
ology l)y  a  certain  ]iarallelisni  iK'tween  tlie  grou])s  of  ])lienom- 
ena  tliey  deal  witb,  it  is  iniintdiatcly  connected  Avilli  Soci- 
ology by  having  witliin  its  limits  this  creature  whose  prop- 
erties originate  social  evolution.  The  iiunian  being  is  at  once 
the  t<'nninal  problem  of  Biology  and  tiic  initial  factor  of 
Sociology. 


PREPARATION    IN   BIOLOGY.  307 

If  Man  were  uniform  and  unchangeable,  so  that  those 
attributes  of  liini  which  lead  to  social  phenomena  could  be 
learnt  and  dealt  with  as  constant,  it  would  not  much  concern 
the  sociologist  to  make  himself  master  of  other  biological 
truths  than  those  cardinal  ones  above  dwelt  upon.  But 
since,  in  common  with  every  other  creature,  Man  is  modi- 
fiable— since  his  modifications,  like  those  of  every  otlier 
creature,  are  ultimately  determined  by  surrounding  condi- 
tions— and  since  surrounding  conditions  are  in  part  consti- 
tuted by  social  arrangements ;  it  becomes  requisite  that  the 
sociologist  should  acquaint  himself  with  the  laws  of  modifica- 
tion to  which  organized  beings  in  general  conform.  Unless 
he  does  this  he  must  continually  err,  both  in  thought  and 
deed.  As  thinker,  he  will  fail  to  understand  the  increasing 
action  and  reaction  of  institutions  and  character,  each  slowly 
niodifying  the  other  through  successive  generations.  As  actor, 
his  furtherance  of  this  or  tiiat  public  policy,  being  unguided 
by  a  true  theory  of  the  effects  wrought  on  citizens,  will  proba- 
bly be  mischievous  rather  than  beneficial ;  since  there  are 
more  ways  of  going  wi'ong  than  of  going  right.  How  needful 
is  enlightenment  on  this  point,  will  be  seen  on  remembering 
that  scarcely  anywhere  is  attention  given  to  the  modifications 
which  a  new  agency,  political  or  other,  will  produce  in  men's 
natures.  Immediate  influence  on  actions  is  alone  contem- 
plated ;  and  the  immeasurably  more  important  influence  on 
the  bodies  and  minds  of  future  generations,  is  wholly  ig- 
nored. 

Yet  the  biological  truths  which  should  check  this  random 
political  speculation  and  rash  political  action,  are  conspicu- 
ous ;  and  might,  one  would  have  thought,  have  been  recog- 
nized by  everyone,  even  without  special  prej^aration  in  Biol- 
ogy. That  faculties  and  powers  of  all  orders,  while  they  grow 
by  exercise,  dwindle  when  not  used ;  and  that  alterations  of 
nature  descend  to  posterity  ;  are  facts  continually  thrust  on 
men's  attention,  and  more  or  less  admitted  by  each.  Though 
the  evidence  of  heredity,  when  looked  at  in  detail,  seems  ob- 
scure, because  of  the  multitudinous  differences  of  parents  and 
of  ancestors,  which  all  take  their  varying  shares  in  each  new 
product ;  yet,  when  looked  at  in  the  mass,  the  evidence  is  over- 
whelming.    Not  to  dwell  on  the  countless  proofs  furnished  by 


308  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

domesticated  animals  of  many  kinds,  as  modified  by  breeders, 
the  proofs  furnished  by  the  human  races  themselves  are 
araply  sufficient.  That  each  variety  of  man  goes  on  so  repro- 
ducing itself  that  adjacent  generations  are  neai'ly  alike,  how- 
ever appreciable  may  sometimes  be  the  divergence  in  a  long 
series  of  generations,  is  undeniable.  Chinese  are  recognizable 
as  Chinese  in  whatever  pai*t  of  the  globe  we  see  them ;  every 
one  assumes  a  black  ancestry  for  any  negro  he  meets ;  and  no 
one  doubts  that  the  less-marked  racial  varieties  have  gi'eat 
degrees  of  persistence.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  unquestion- 
able that  the  likenesses  which  the  members  of  one  human 
stock  preserve,  generation  after  generation,  where  the  condi- 
tions of  life  remain  constant,  give  place  to  unlikenesses  that 
slowly  increase  in  the  course  of  centuries  and  thousands  of 
years,  if  the  members  of  that  stock,  spreading  into  different 
habitats,  fall  under  different  sets  of  conditions.  If  we  assume 
the  original  unity  of  the  human  race,  we  have  no  alternative 
but  to  admit  such  divergencies  consequent  on  such  causes ; 
and  even  if  we  do  not  assume  this  original  unity,  we  have 
still,  among  the  races  classed  by  the  community  of  their  lan- 
guages as  Aryan,  abundant  proofs  that  subjection  to  different 
modes  of  life,  produces  in  course  of  ages  permanent  bodily 
and  mental  differences :  the  Hindu  and  the  Englishman,  the 
Greek  and  the  Dutchman,  have  acquired  undeniable  contrasts 
of  nature,  physical  and  psychical,  which  can  be  ascribed  to 
nothing  but  the  continuous  effects  of  circinnstances,  material, 
moral,  social,  on  the  activities  and  therefore  on  the  constitu- 
tion. So  that,  as  above  said,  it  might  have  been  expected  that 
biological  training  would  scarcely  be  needed  to  impress  men 
with  tbose  large  facts,  all-important  as  elements  in  sociological 
conclusions. 

As  it  is,  however,  we  see  that  a  deliberate  study  of  Biologj' 
cannot  be  dispensed  with.  It  is  requisite  that  these  scattered 
cvidoncos  whicli  but  few  citizens  put  together  and  think  about, 
sliouhl  be  set  before  them  in  an  orderly  way ;  and  tliat  tlioy 
should  recognize  in  tliem  the  univei-sal  truths  which  living 
things  cxhH)it.  Tlicro  requires  a  nuiltiplicity  of  illustra- 
tions, various  in  tlioir  kinds,  often  repeated  and  dwelt  upon. 
Only  thus  can  there  be  jiroducod  an  adequatrly-strong  convic- 
ti<tn  that  all  organic  beings  are  niodiliahle,  tiuit  rnodilications 


PREPARATION   IN   BIOLOGY.  309 

are  inheritable,  and  that  therefore  the  remote  issues  of  any- 
new  influence  brought  to  bear  on  the  members  of  a  commu- 
nity must  be  serious. 

To  give  a  more  definite  and  eflPective  shape  to  this  general 
inference,  let  me  here  comment  on  certain  courses  pursued  by 
philanthropists  and  legislators  eager  for  immediate  good  re- 
sults, but  pursued  without  regard  to  biological  truths,  which, 
if  borne  in  mind,  woiild  make  them  hesitate  if  not  desist. 

Every  species  of  creature  goes  on  multiplyijig  till  it 
reaches  the  limit  at  which  its  mortality  from  all  causes  bal- 
ances its  fertility.  Diminish  its  mortality  by  removing  or 
mitigating  any  one  of  these  causes,  and  inevitably  its  num- 
bers increase  until  mortality  and  fertility  are  again  in  equi- 
librium. However  many  injurious  influences  are  taken  away, 
the  same  thing  holds ;  for  the  reason  that  the  remaining  in- 
jurious influences  grow  more  intense.  Either  the  pressure  on 
the  means  of  subsistence  becomes  greater  ;  or  some  enemy  of 
the  species,  multiplying  in  proportion  to  the  abundance  of 
its  prey,  becomes  more  destructive ;  or  some  disease,  encour- 
aged by  greater  proximity,  becomes  more  prevalent.  This 
general  truth,  everywhere  exemplified  among  inferior  races  of 
beings,  holds  of  the  human  race.  True,  it  is  in  this  case  vari- 
ously traversed  and  obscured.  By  emigration,  the  limits 
against  which  x^opulation  continually  presses  are  partially 
evaded;  by  improvements  in  production,  they  are  continually 
removed  further  away;  and  along  with  increase  of  knowl- 
edge there  comes  an  avoidance  of  detrimental  agencies. 
Still,  these  are  but  qualifications  of  an  inevitable  action  and 
reaction. 

Let  us  here  glance  at  the  relation  between  this  general 
truth  and  the  legislative  measures  adopted  to  ward  off  certain 
causes  of  death.  Every  individual  eventually  dies  from  ina- 
bility to  withstand  some  environing  action.  It  may  be  a  me- 
chanical force  that  cannot  be  resisted  by  the  strengths  of  his 
bodily  structures;  it  may  be  a  deleterious  gas  which,  ab- 
sorbed into  his  blood,  so  deranges  the  processes  throughout 
his  body  as  finally  to  overthrow  their  balance ;  or  it  may  be 
an  absorption  of  his  bodily  heat  by  surrounding  things,  that 
is  too  great  for  his  enfeebled  functions  to  meet.    In  all  cases, 


310  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

however,  it  is  one,  or  some,  of  the  many  forces  to  which  he  is 
exposed,  and  in  pi'esence  of  which  his  vital  activities  have  to 
be  carried  on.  He  may  succumb  early  or  late,  according  to 
the  goodness  of  his  structure  and  the  incidents  of  his  career. 
But  in  the  natural  working  of  things,  those  having  imperfect 
structures  succumb  before  they  have  offspring  :  leaving  those 
with  fitter  structures  to  produce  the  next  generation.  And 
obviously,  the  working  of  this  process  is  such  that  as  many 
will  continue  to  live  and  to  reproduce  as  can  do  so  under  the 
conditions  then  existing :  if  the  assemblage  of  influences  be- 
comes more  difficult  to  withstand,  a  larger  number  of  the 
feebler  disappear  early ;  if  the  assemblage  of  influences  is 
made  moi*e  favourable  by  the  removal  of,  or  mitigation  of, 
some  unfavourable  influence,  there  is  an  increase  in  the  num- 
ber of  t?ie  feebler  who  survive  and  leave  posterity.  Hence 
two  proximate  results,  conspiring  to  the  same  ultimate  result. 
First,  population  increases  at  a  greater  rate  than  it  would 
otherwise  have  done :  so  subjecting  all  persons  to  certain 
other  destroying  agencies  in  more-intense  forms.  Second, 
by  intermarriage  of  the  feebler  who  now  survive,  with  the 
stronger  who  would  otherwise  have  alone  surviv^ed,  the  gen- 
eral constitution  is  brought  down  to  the  level  of  strength  re- 
quired to  meet  these  more-favourable  conditions.  That  is  to 
say,  there  by-and-by  arises  a  state  of  things  inuler  which  a 
general  decrease  in  the  power  of  witlistandiug  tliis  mitigated 
destroying  cause,  and  a  general  increase  in  the  activity  of 
otlier  destroying  causes,  consequent  on  greater  numbers, 
bring  mortality  and  fertility  into  the  same  relation  as  before 
— there  is  a  somewhat  larger  number  of  a  somewhat  weaker 
race. 

There  are  further  ways  in  which  this  process  necessarily 
works  a  like  general  effect,  however  far  it  is  carried.  For  as 
fast  as  more  and  more  detrimental  agencies  are  removed  or 
niitigatod,  and  as  fast  as  there  goes  on  an  increasing  survival 
and  propagation  of  those  having  delicately-balanced  constitu- 
tions, there  ari.se  new  destructive  agencies.  Let  the  average 
vitality  bo  diminished  by  more  elfeetMally  guarding  (he  weak 
against  adverse  conditions,  and  inevitably  there  come  firsh 
diseases.  A  general  constitution  previously  able  to  bear  with- 
out derangement  certain  variations  in  atmo.spheric  conditions 


PREPARATION   IN  BIOLOGY.  311 

and  certain  degrees  of  other  nnfav()ural>le  actions,  if  lowered 
in  tone,  will  become  subject  to  new  kinds  of  xici'turbation  and 
new  causes  of  death.  In  illustration,  I  need  but  refer  to  the 
many  diseases  from  which  civilized  races  suffer,  but  which 
were  not  known  to  the  uncivilized.  Nor  is  it  only  by  such 
new  causes  of  death  that  the  rate  of  inortality,  when  decreased 
in  one  direction  increases  m  anotlier.  The  very  precautions 
ao-ainst  death  are  themselves  in  some  measure  new  causes  of 
death.  Every  further  appliance  for  meeting  an  evil,  every  ad- 
ditional expenditure  of  effort,  every  extra  tax  to  meet  the  cost 
of  supervision,  becomes  a  fresh  obstacle  to  living.  For  always 
in  a  society  w^here  population  is  pressing-  on  the  means  of  sub- 
sistence, and  where  the  efforts  required  to  fulfil  vital  needs 
are  so  great  that  they  here  and  there  cause  j^remature  death, 
the  powers  of  producers  cannot  be  further  strained  by  calling 
on  them  to  support  a  new  class  of  non-producers,  without,  in 
some  cases,  increasing  the  wear  and  tear  to  a  fatal  extent. 
And  in  proportion  as  this  policy  is  carried  further — in  jDropor- 
tion  as  the  enfeeblement  of  constitution  is  made  gi'eater,  the 
required  precautions  multiplied,  and  the  cost  of  maintaining 
these  precautions  augmented ;  it  must  happen  that  the  in- 
creasing physiological  expenditure  thrown  on  these  enfeebled 
constitutions,  must  make  them  succumb  so  much  the  earlier : 
the  mortality  evaded  in  one  shape  must  come  round  in 
another. 

The  clearest  conception  of  the  state  brought  about,  -will  be 
gained  by  supposing  the  society  thus  produced  to  consist  of 
old  people.  Age  differs  from  maturity  and  youth  in  being 
less  able  to  withstand  influences  that  tend  to  derange  the 
functions,  as  well  as  less  able  to  bear  the  efforts  needed  to  get 
the  food,  clothing,  and  shelter,  by  which  resistance  to  these 
influences  may  be  carried  on ;  and  where  no  aid  is  received 
from  the  younger,  this  decreased  strength  and  increased  lia- 
bility to  derangement  by  incident  forces,  make  the  life  of  age 
difficult  and  wearisome.  Those  who,  though  young,  have 
weak  constitutions,  are  much  in  the  same  position  :  their  lia- 
bilities to  derangement  are  similarly  multiplied,  and  where 
they  have  to  support  themselves,  they  are  similarly  over-taxed 
by  the  effort,  relatively  great  to  them  and  made  greater  by  the 
maintaining  of  precautious.    A  society  of  enfeebled  peojile, 


312  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

then,  must  lead  a  life  like  that  led  by  a  society  of  people  "who 
had  outlived  the  vigour  of  maturity,  and  yet  had  none  to  help 
them ;  and  their  life  must  also  be  like  in  lacking  that  over- 
flowing energy  which,  while  it  makes  labours  easy,  makes 
enjoyments  keen.  In  proportion  as  vigour  declines,  not  only 
do  the  causes  of  pain  multiply,  while  the  tax  on  the  energies 
becomes  more  trying,  but  the  possibilities  of  pleasure  deci*ease : 
many  delights  demanding,  or  accompanying,  exertion  are 
shut  out ;  and  others  fail  to  raise  the  flagging  spirits.  So  that, 
to  sum  up,  lowering  the  average  tyjje  of  constitution  to  a  level 
of  strength  heloiv  that  which  meets  icithoiit  difficulty  the  or- 
dinary strains  and  jjerturbations  and  dangers,  while  it  fails 
eventually  to  diminish  the  rate  of  mortality,  makes  life  more 
a  burden  and  less  a  gratification. 

I  am  aware  that  this  reasoning  may  be  met  by  the  criti- 
cism that,  carried  out  rigorously,  it  would  negative  social 
ameliorations  in  general.  Some,  perhaps,  will  say  that  even 
those  measures  by  which  order  is  maintained,  might  be  op- 
posed on  the  ground  that  there  results  from  them  a  kind  of 
men  less  capable  of  self -protection  than  would  otherwise  exist. 
And  there  will  doubtless  be  suggested  the  corollary  that  no 
influences  detrimental  to  health  ought  to  be  removed.  I  am 
not  concerned  to  meet  such  criticisms,  because  I  do  not  mean 
the  conclusions  above  indicated  to  be  taken  without  qualifica- 
tion. Manifestly,  up  to  a  certain  point,  the  removal  of  de- 
structive causes  leaves  a  balance  of  benefit.  The  simple  fact 
that  with  a  largely-augmented  population,  longevity  is  greater 
now  than  heretofore,  goes  far  towards  shoAving  that  up  to  the 
time  lived  through  by  those  who  die  in  our  day,  there  had 
been  a  decrease  of  the  causes  of  mortality  in  some  directions, 
greater  than  their  increase  in  other  directions.  Though  a 
considerable  drawback  may  be  suspected — though,  on  observ- 
ing how  few  thoi'oughly-strong  people  we  meet,  and  liow 
prevalt-nt  are  chronic  ailments  iiot\vitlih.t;inding  the  care  taken 
of  liealth,  it  may  be  inferred  that  bodily  life  now  is  lower  in 
quality  than  it  was,  though  greater  in  quantity;  yet  there  has 
probal)ly  been  gained  a  sin'])his  of  advantage.  All  I  wish  to' 
sl\ow  is,  that  there  are  limits  to  tlie  good  gained  by  such  a 
j»olicy.  It  is  supposed  in  tlie  Legislature,  and  by  tlio  ])ublic 
at  large,  that  if,  by  mea-sures  taken,  a  certain  number  of 


PREPARATION   IN  BIOLOGY.  313 

deaths  by  disease  have  been  prevented,  so  much  pure  benefit  has 
been  secured.  But  it  is  not  so.  In  any  case,  there  is  a  set-off 
from  the  benefit ;  and  if  such  measures  are  greatly  multijilied, 
the  deductions  may  eat  up  the  benefit  entirely,  and  leave  an 
injury  in  its  place.  Where  such  measures  ought  to  stop,  is  a 
question  that  may  be  left  open.  Here  my  purpose  is  simply 
to  point  out  the  way  in  which  a  far-reaching  biological  truth 
underlies  rational  conclusions  in  Sociology  ;  and  also  to  point 
out  that  formidable  evils  may  arise  from  ignoring  it. 

Other  evils,  no  less  serious,  are  entailed  by  legislative  ac- 
tions and  by  actions  of  individuals,  single  and  combined, 
which  overlook  or  disregard  a  kindred  biological  truth.  Be- 
sides an  habitual  neglect  of  the  fact  that  the  quality  of  a  so- 
ciety is  physically  lowered  by  the  artificial  preservation  of  its 
feeblest  members,  there  is  an  habitual  neglect  of  the  fact  that 
the  quality  of  a  society  is  lowered  morally  and  intellectually, 
by  the  artificial  preservation  of  those  who  are  least  able  to 
take  care  of  themselves. 

If  anyone  denies  that  children  bear*  likenesses  to  their  pro- 
genitors in  character  and  capacity — if  he  holds  that  men 
whose  parents  and  grandparents  were  habitual  criminals, 
have  tendencies  as  good  as  those  of  men  whose  parents  and 
grandparents  were  industrious  and  upright,  he  may  consist- 
ently hold  tliat  it  matters  not  from  what  families  in  a  society 
the  successive  generations  descend.  He  may  think  it  just  as 
well  if  the  most  active,  and  capable,  and  prudent,  and  con- 
scientious people  die  withovit  issue  ;  while  many  children  are 
left  by  the  reckless  and  dishonest.  But  whoever  does  not 
espouse  so  insane  a  proposition,  must  admit  that  social  ar- 
rangements which  retard  the  multiplication  of  the  mentally- 
best,  and  facilitate  the  multiplication  of  the  mentally-worst, 
must  be  extremely  injurious. 

For  if  the  unworthy  are  helped  to  increase,  by  shielding 
them  from  that  mortality  which  their  unworthiness  would 
naturally  entail,  the  effect  is  to  produce,  generation  after  gen- 
eration, a  greater  unworthiness.  From  diminished  use  of  self- 
conserving  faculties  already  deficient,  there  must  result,  in 
posterity,  still  smaller  amounts  of  self-conserving  faculties. 
The  general  law  which  we  traced  above  in  its  bodily  applica- 


314  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

tions,  may  be  traced  here  in  its  mental  applications.  Removal 
of  certain  difficulties  and  dangers  which  have  to  be  met  by 
intelligence  and  activity,  is  followed  by  a  decreased  ability  to 
meet  difficulties  and  dangers.  Among  children  born  to  the 
more  capable  who  marry  with  the  less  capable,  thus  artificially 
preserved,  there  is  not  simply  a  lower  average  jiower  of  self- 
preservation  than  would  else  have  existed,  but  the  incapacity 
reaches  in  some  cases  a  greater  extreme.  Smaller  difficulties 
and  dangers  become  fatal  in  proportion  as  greater  ones  are 
warded  off.  Nor  is  this  the  whole  mischief.  For  such  mem- 
bers of  a  population  as  do  not  take  care  of  themselves,  but  are 
taken  care  of  by  the  rest,  inevitably  bring  on  the  rest  extra 
exertion ;  either  in  supplying  them  ^^'ith  the  necessaries  of 
life,  or  in  maintaining  over  them  the  required  supervision,  or 
in  both.  That  is  to  say,  in  addition  to  self-conservation  and 
the  conservation  of  their  own  offspring,  the  best,  having  to 
undertake  the  conservation  of  the  woi'st,  and  of  their  off- 
spring, are  subject  to  an  overdraw  upon  their  energies.  In 
some  cases  this  stops  them  from  marrying ;  in  other  cases  it 
diminisbes  tlie  numbers  of  their  children ;  in  other  cases  it 
causes  inadequate  feeding  of  tbeir  children  ;  in  other  cases  it 
brings  their  children  to  orphanhood — in  every  way  tending 
to  arrest  the  increase  of  the  best,  to  deteriorate  their  consti- 
tutions, and  to  pull  them  down  towards  the  level  of  the 
worst. 

Fostering  the  good-for-nothing  at  the  expense  of  the  good, 
is  an  extreme  cruelty.  It  is  a  deliberate  storing-up  of  miseries 
for  future  generations.  There  is  no  greater  curse  to  posterity 
tlian  that  of  bequoatliing  tliem  an  increasing  population  of 
iiiil)eciles  and  idlers  and  criminals.  To  aid  the  bad  in  multi- 
jilying,  is,  in  effect,  tlie  same  as  maliciously  providi)ig  for  our 
descendants  a  multitude  of  enemies.  It  may  be  doul)t(Hl 
whether  the  maudlin  i)]iilanthropy  which,  looking  only  al  di- 
rect mitigations,  ])crsistc'ntl y  igiion>s  indirect  mischit^fs,  docs 
not  in llict  a  greater  total  of  misery  than  the<^\treinestsellishii('ss 
inflicts.  Refusing  to  consider  llie  remote  influences  of  his  in- 
continent generosity,  the  tlioiiglitless  giver  stands  but  a  de- 
gree- abov(^  the  drunkard  who  tliiiilcs  only  of  to-day's  ])]easure 
and  ignores  to-nioi-row's  pain,  or  the  speniithrit't  who  seeks 
immediate  delights  at  the  cost  of  ultimate  poverty.     In  ojie 


PREPARATION  IN   BIOLOGY. 


■^ 


respect,  indeed,  he  is  worse ;  since,  while  getting  the  present 
plensure  produced  in  giving  pleasure,  he  leaves  the  future 
miseries  to  be  borne  by  others — escaj)ing  them  himself.  And 
calling  for  still  stronger  reprobation  is  that  scattering  of 
money  prompted  by  misinterpretation  of  tiie  saying  that 
"charity  covers  a  multitude  of  sins."  For  in  the  many 
whom  this  misinterpretation  leads  to  believe  that  by  large 
donations  they  can  compound  for  evil  deeds,  we  may  trace 
an  element  of  positive  baseness — an  effort  to  get  a  good  place 
in  another  world,  no  matter  at  what  injury  to  fellow-crea- 
tures. 

How  far  the  mentally-superior  may,  with  a  balance  of  bene- 
fit to  society,  shield  the  mentally-inferior  from  the  evil  results 
of  their  inferiority,  is  a  question  too  involved  to  be  here  dis- 
cussed at  length.  Doubtless  it  is  in  the  order  of  things  that 
parental  affection,  the  regai'd  of  relatives,  and  the  spontane- 
ous sympathy  of  friends  and  even  of  strangers,  should  miti- 
gate the  pains  which  incapacity  has  to  bear,  and  the  ijenalties 
which  unfit  impulses  bring  round.  Doubtless,  in  many  cases 
tiie  reactive  influence  of  this  sympathetic  care  which  the  better 
take  of  the  worse,  is  morally  beneficial,  and  in  a  degree  com- 
pensates by  good  in  one  direction  for  evil  in  another.  It  may 
be  fully  admitted  that  individual  altruism,  left  to  itself,  will 
work  advantageously — wherever,  at  least,  it  does  not  go  to  the 
extent  of  helping  the  unworthy  to  multiply.  But  an  unques- 
tionable injury  is  done  by  agencies  which  undertake  in  a 
wholesale  way  to  foster  good-for-nothings :  putting  a  stop  to 
that  natural  process  of  elimination  by  which  society  continu- 
ally purifies  itself.  For  not  only  by  such  agencies  is  this 
preservation  of  the  worst  and  destruction  of  the  best  carried 
further  than  it  would  else  be,  but  there  is  scarcely  any  of  that 
compensating  advantage  which  individual  altruism  implies. 
A  mechanically- working  State-apparatus,  distinbuting  money 
drawn  from  grumbling  ratepaj'ers,  produces  little  or  no 
moralizing  effect  on  the  capables  to  make  up  for  multiplica- 
tion of  the  incapables.  Here,  however,  it  is  needless  to  dwell 
on  the  perplexing  questions  hence  arising.  My  purpose  is 
simply  to  show  that  a  rational  policy  must  recognize  certain 
general  truths  of  Biology  •,  and  to  insist  that  only  when  study 
of  these  general  truths,  as  illustrated  throughout  the  living 


ai6  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

■world,  has  woven  them  iuto  the  conceptions  of  things,  is  there 
gained  a  strong  conviction  that  disregard  of  them  must  cause 
enormous  mischiefs.^ 

Biological  truths  and  their  corollaries,  presented  under 
these  special  forms  as  bases  for  sociological  conclusions,  are 
introductory  to  a  more  general  biological  truth  including 
them— a  general  biological  truth  which  underlies  all  rational 
legislation.  I  refer  to  the  truth  that  every  species  of  organ- 
ism, including  the  human,  is  alwaj^s  adapting  itself,  both 
directly  and  indirectly,  to  its  conditions  of  existence. 

The  actions  which  have  produced  every  variety  of  man, — 
the  actions  which  have  established  in  the  Negro  and  the 
Hindu,  constitutions  that  thrive  in  climates  fatal  to  Euro- 
peans, and  in  the  Fuegian  a  constitution  enabling  him  to  bear 
without  clothing  an  inclemency  almost  too  great  for  other 
races  well  clothed — the  actions  which  have  developed  in  the 
Tartar-races  nomadic  habits  that  are  almost  insurmountable, 
while  they  have  given  to  North  American  Indians  desires 
and  aptitudes  wliich,  fitting  them  for  a  hunting  life,  make  a 
civilized  life  intolerable — the  actions  doing  this,  are  also  ever 
at  work  moulding  citizens  into  con'espondence  with  their  cir- 
cumstances. While  the  bodily  natures  of  citizens  are  being 
fitted  to  the  physical  influences  and  industrial  activities  of 
their  locality,  their  mental  natures  are  being  fitted  to  the 
structure  of  the  society  they  live  in.  Though,  as  we  have 
seen,  there  is  always  an  approximate  fitness  of  the  social  unit 
to  its  social  aggregate,  yet  the  fitness  can  never  be  more  tlian 
apjiroximate,  and  re-adjustment  is  always  going  on.  Could  a 
society  remain  unchanged,  something  like  a  permanent  equi- 
librium between  tlie  nature  of  the  individual  and  the  nature 
of  the  society  would  preseiitly  be  rcacliod.  But  tlie  type  of 
oadi  society  is  contiimally  being  modified  by  two  causes— by 
growth,  aiul  by  the  actions,  warlike  or  other,  of  adjacent 
societies.  Increa.si>  in  tli<>  biillc  of  a  society  inevitably  leads 
to  change  of  structure ;  as  also  does  any  alteration  in  tlio 
ratio  of  tlie  predatory  to  the  industrial  activities.  Hence  con- 
tinual .social  metamorphosis,  involving  continual  alteration 
of  Ww  conditions  under  which  the  citizen  lives,  produces  in 
liiiii  an  .•i(l;ii)t.ilion  of  character  whicli,  tending  towards  com- 


PREPARATION  IN  BIOLOGY.  31 7 

pleteness,  is  ever  made  incomplete  by  further  social  meta- 
morphosis. 

While,  however,  each  society,  and  each  successive  phase  of 
each  society,  presents  conditions  more  or  less  special,  to  which 
the  natures  of  citizens  adapt  themselves ;  there  are  certain 
general  conditions  which,  in  every  society,  mvist  be  fulfilled 
to  a  consideri^ble  extent  before  it  can  hold  together,  and  which 
must  be  fulfilled  completely  before  social  life  can  be  complete. 
Each  citizen  has  to  carry  on  his  activities  in  such  ways  as  not 
to  impede  other  citizens  in  the  carrying-on  of  their  activities 
more  than  he  is  impeded  by  them.  That  any  citizen  may  so 
behave  as  not  to  deduct  from  the  aggregate  welfare,  it  is  need- 
ful that  he  shall  perform  such  function,  or  share  of  function, 
as  is  of  value  equivalent  at  least  to  what  he  consumes ;  and  it 
is  further  needful  that,  both  in  discharging  his  function  and 
in  pursuing  his  pleasure,  he  shall  leave  others  similarly  free 
to  discharge  their  functions  and  to  pursue  their  pleasures. 
Obviously  a  society  formed  of  units  who  cannot  live  without 
mutual  hindrance,  is  one  in  which  the  happiness  is  of  smaller 
amount  than  it  is  in  a  society  formed  of  units  who  can  live 
without  mutual  hindrance — numbers  and  physical  conditions 
being  supposed  equal.  And  obviously  the  sum  of  happiness  in 
such  a  society  is  still  less  than  that  in  a  society  of  which  the 
units  voluntarily  aid  one  another. 

Now,  under  one  of  its  chief  aspects,  civilization  is  a  process 
of  developing  in  citizens  a  nature  capable  of  fulfilling  these 
all-essential  conditions;  and,  neglecting  their  superfluities, 
laws  and  the  appliances  for  enforcing  them,  are  expressions 
and  embodiments  of  these  all-essential  conditions.  On  the  one 
hand,  those  severe  systems  of  slavery,  and  serfdom,  and 
punishment  for  vagabondage,  which  characterized  the  less- 
developed  social  types,  stand  for  the  necessity  that  the  social 
unit  shall  be  self-supporting.  On  the  other  hand,  the  punish- 
ments for  murder,  assault,  theft,  etc.,  and  the  penalties  on 
breach  of  contract,  stand  for  the  necessity  that,  in  the  course 
of  the  activities  by  which  he  supports  himself,  the  citizen  shall 
neither  directly  injure  other  citizens,  nor  shall  injure  them 
indirectly,  by  taking  or  intercepting  the  retxu'ns  their  activi- 
ties bring.  And  it  needs  no  detail  to  show  that  a  fundamental 
trait  in  social  jjrogress,  is  an  increase  of  industrial  energy, 


318  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

leading  citizens  to  support  themselves  without  being  coerced 
in  the  harsii  ways  once  general ;  that  another  fundamental 
trait  is  the  gradual  establishment  of  such  a  nature  in  citizens 
that,  while  pursuing  their  respective  ends,  they  injure  and 
impede  one  another  in  smaller  degrees ;  and  that  a  coiacomi- 
tant  trait  is  the  growth  of  governmental  restraints  which 
more  effectually  check  the  remaining  aggressiveness.  That 
is  to  say,  while  the  course  of  civilization  shows  us  a  clearer  rec- 
ognition and  better  enforcement  of  these  essential  conditions, 
it  also  shows  us  a  moulding  of  humanity  into  correspondence 
with  them. 

Along  with  the  proofs  thus  furnished  that  the  biological 
law  of  adaptation,  holding  of  all  other  species,  holds  of  the 
human  species,  and  that  the  change  of  nature  undergone  by 
the  human  species  since  societies  began  to  develop,  has  been 
an  adaptation  of  it  to  the  conditions  implied  by  harmonious 
social  life,  we  receive  the  lesson,^  that  the  one  thing  needful  is 
a  rigorous  maintenance  of  tlicse  conditions.  Wliile  all  see 
that  the  immediate  function  of  our  chief  social  institutions  is 
the  secuinng  of  an  ox'derly  social  life  by  making  these  condi- 
tions imperative,  very  few  see  tliat  their  further  function,  and 
in  one  sense  more  impoi'tant  function,  is  that  of  fitting  men  to 
fulfil  these  conditions  spontaneously.  The  two  functions  are 
insoparal)le.  From  the  biohigical  laws  we  have  been  contem- 
plating, it  is,  on  the  one  liand,  an  inevitable  corollary  that  if 
these  conditions  are  maintained,  human  nature  will  slowly 
adapt  itself  to  them  ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  an  inevit- 
able corollary  that  by  no  other  discipline  than  subjivtiou  to 
tliese  conditions,  can  fitness  to  the  social  state  bo  produced. 
Enforce  these  conditions,  and  adaptation  to  them  will  con- 
tiinio.  Relax  these  conditions,  and  by  so  much  there  will  be 
a  cessation  of  the  adajjtive  changes.  Abolish  these  conditions, 
and  after  the  consc^qiient  social  dissolution,  there  will  com- 
mence (unless  they  are  re-established)  an  adai)talion  to  the 
conditions  then  resulting — those  of  savage  life.  These  arc  con- 
clusions from  which  there  is  no  escape,  if  Man  is  subject  to 
the  laws  of  life  in  cojninon  witli  living  things  in  general. 

It  may,  indeed,  be  rightly  contendiKl  that  if  those  who  are 
but  littb^  (Hied  to  the  social  state  are  rigorously  subjected  to 
these  conditions,  evil   will    result:    intolerable  restrain!,   if  it 


PREPARATION   IN   BIOLOGY.  319 

does  not  deform  or  destroy  life,  will  be  followed  by  violent  re- 
action. We  are  taiight  by  analogy,  that  greatly-changed  cir- 
cumstances from  vv'iiich  there  is  no  escape,  fail  to  produce 
adaptation  because  tliey  produce  death.  Men  having  consti- 
tutions fitted  for  one  climate,  cannot  be  fitted  to  an  extremely- 
different  climate  by  persistently  living  in  it,  because  they 
do  not  survive,  generation  after  generation.  Such  changes 
can  be  brought  about  only  by  slow  spreadings  of  the  race 
through  intermediate  regions  having  intermediate  climates,  to 
which  successive  generations  are  accustomed  little  by  little. 
And  doubtless  the  like  holds  mentally.  The  intellectual  aud 
emotional  natures  required  for  high  civilization,  are  not  to  be 
obtained  by  thrusting  on  the  completely-uncivilized,  the  need- 
fid  activities  and  restraints  in  unqualified  forms  :  gradual  de- 
cay and  death,  rather  than  adaptation,  would  result.  But  so 
long  as  a  society's  institutions  are  indigenous,  no  danger  is  to 
be  apprehended  from  a  too-strict  maintenance  of  the  condi- 
tions to  the  ideally-best  social  life ;  since  there  can  exist 
neither  the  required  appreciation  of  them  nor  the  required  ap- 
pliances for  enforcing  them.  Only  in  those  abnormal  cases 
where  a  race  of  one  type  is  subject  to  a  race  of  niuch-suj)erior 
type,  is  this  qualification  pertinent.  In  our  own  case,  as  in 
the  cases  of  all  societies  having  populations  apj)roximately 
homogeneous  in  character,  and  having  institutions  evolved  by 
that  character,  there  may  rightly  be  aimed  at  the  greatest 
rigoiu*  possible.  The  merciful  policy,  no  less  than  the  just 
policy,  is  that  of  insisting  that  these  all-essential  requirements 

of  self-support  and  non-aggression,  shall  be  conformed  to 

the  just  policy,  because  failing  to  insist  is  failing  to  protect 
the  better  or  more-adapted  natures  against  tlie  worse  or  less- 
adapted  ;  the  merciful  policy,  because  the  pains  accompany- 
ing the  process  of  adaptation  to  the  social  state  must  be  gone 
through,  and  it  is  better  that  they  should  be  gone  through 
once  than  gone  through  twice,  as  they  have  to  be  when  any 
relaxation  of  these  conditions  permits  retrogi'ession. 

Thus,  that  which  sundry  precepts  of  the  cui-rent  religion 
embody — that  which  ethical  systems,  intuitive  or  utilitarian, 
equally  urge,  is  also  that  which  Biology,  generalizing  the  laAvs 
of  life  at  large,  dictates.  All  further  requirements  are  unim- 
portant compared  with  this  primary  requirement,  that  each 


320  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

shall  so  live  as  neither  to  burden  others  nor  to  injure  others.  A 
And  all  further  appliances  for  influencing  the  actions  and 
natures  of  men,  are  unimportant  compared  with  those  serving 
to  maintain  and  increase  the  conformity  to  this  primary  re- 
quirement. But  unhappily,  legislators  and  philanthropists, 
busy  with  schemes  which,  instead  of  aiding  adaptation,  indi- 
rectly hinder  it,  give  little  attention  to  the  enforcing  and  im- 
proving of  those  arrangements  by  which  adaptation  is  ef- 
fected. 

And  here,  on  behalf  of  the  few  who  uphold  this  policy  of 
natural  discipline,  let  me  emphatically  repudiate  the  name  of 
laissez-faire  as  applied  to  it,  and  emphatically  condemn  tlie 
counter-policy  as  involving  a  laissez-faire  of  the  most  vicious 
kind.  While  holding  that,  when  the  State  leaves  each  citizen 
to  get  what  food  for  himself  he  can,  and  to  suffer  what  evil  he 
brings  on  himself,  such  a  let-alone  policy  is  eventually  bene- 
ficial ;  I  contend  that,  when  the  Stiite  leaves  him  to  bear  the 
evils  inflicted  by  other  citizens,  and  can  be  induced  to  defend 
him  only  at  a  ruinous  cost,  such  a  let-alone  policy  is  both  im- 
mediately and  remotely  injurious.  When  a  Legislature  takes 
from  the  worthy  the  things  they  have  laboured  for,  that  it  may 
give  to  the  unworthy  the  things  they  have  not  earned — wlien 
cause  and  consequence,  joined  in  the  order  of  Nature,  are  thus 
divorced  by  law-makers ;  then  may  properly  come  the  sug- 
gestion— "  Cease  your  interference."  But  when,  in  any  way, 
direct  or  indirect,  the  unworthy  deprive  the  worthy  of  their 
dues,  or  impede  them  in  the  quiet  pursuit  of  their  ends,  then 
may  properly  come  the  demand — "  Interfere  promjitly ;  and 
be,  in  fact,  the  i)rotectoi*s  you  are  in  naiii(\"  Our  politicians 
and  pliilantlir()])i.sts,  impatient  with  a  salutary  laissez-faire, 
tolerate  and  even  defend  a  laissez-faire  that  is  in  the  high- 
est degree  mischievous.  Without  hesitiition,  this  regulative 
agency  we  call  the  Government  takes  from  us  some  £100,00;) 
a  year  to  ])ay  for  Art-teaching  and  to  establish  Art-museums; 
wliile,  in  guarding  us  against  ro])bers  and  nnn-derers,  it  makes 
conviction  dillieult  l)y  demurring  to  llie  cost  of  necessary 
evidence:  even  tlic  outlay  for  a  i)laii.  admitted  by  the  taxing- 
master,  being  refused  l)y  tbe  Treasury  !  Is  not  tliat  a  disastrous 
laissez-faire  !  While  millions  are  voted  without  a  murmur 
for  un  expedition  to  rescue  u  meddling  consul  from  a  half- 


PREPARATION   IN  BIOLOGY.  321 

savage  king,  our  Executive  resists  the  spending  of  a  few  extra 
thousands  to  pay  more  judges  :  the  result  being  not  simi)ly 
vast  ari'ears  and  long  delays,  but  immense  injustices  of  other 
kinds, — costs  being  run  uj)  in  cases  which  lawyers  know  will 
never  be  heard,  and  which,  when  brouglit  into  court,  the 
over-burdened  judges  get  rid  of  by  appointing  junior  counsel 
as  referees  :  an  arrangement  under  which  the  suitors  have  not 
simply  to  pay  over  again  all  their  agents,  at  extra  i-ates,  but 
have  also  to  pay  their  judges.'^  Is  not  that,  too,  a  flagitious 
laissez-faire  f  Tliough,  in  our  solicitude  for  Negroes,  we 
have  been  spending  £50,000  a  year  to  stoii  the  East- African 
slave-trade,  and  failing  to  do  it,  yet  only  now  are  we  provid- 
ing protection  for  our  own  sailors  against  unscrupulous  ship- 
owners— only  now  have  sailors,  betrayed  into  bad  ships,  got 
something  more  than  the  option  of  risking  death  by  drowning 
or  going  to  prison  for  breach  of  contract !  Shall  we  not  call 
that,  also,  a  laissez-faire  that  is  almost  wicked  in  its  indiffer- 
ence ?  At  the  same  time  that  the  imperativeness  of  teaching 
all  children  to  write,  and  to  spell,  and  to  parse,  and  to  know 
where  Timbuctoo  lies,  is  being  agreed  to  with  acclamation, 
and  vast  sums  raised  that  these  urgent  needs  may  be  met,  it  is 
not  thought  needful  that  citizens  should  be  enabled  to  learn 
the  laws  they  have  to  obey ;  and  though  these  laws  are  so 
many  commands  which,  on  any  rational  theory,  the  Govern- 
ment issuing  them  ought  to  enforce,  yet  in  a  great  mass  of 
cases  it  does  nothing  when  told  that  they  have  been  broken, 
but  leaves  the  injured  to  tiy  and  enforce  them  at  their  own 
risk,  if  they  please.  Is  not  that,  again,  a  demoralizing  laissez- 
faire — an  encouragement  to  wrong-doing  by  a  half-promise 
of  impunity  ?  Once  more,  what  shall  we  say  of  the  laissez- 
faire  which  cries  out  because  the  civil  administration  of  jus- 
tice costs  us  £800,000  a  year — because  to  protect  men's  rights 
we  annually  spend  half  as  much  again  as  would  build  an 
ironclad  ! — because  to  prevent  fraud  and  enforce  contracts  we 
lay  out  each  year  nearly  as  much  as  our  largest  distiller  pays 
in  spirit-duty  ! — what,  I  ask,  shall  we  say  of  the  laissez-faire 
which  thus  thinks  it  an  extravagance  that  one-hundredth  part 
of  our  national  revenue  should  go  in  maintaining  the  vital 
condition  to  national  well-being  ?  Is  not  that  a  laissez-faire 
which  we  might  be  tempted  to  call  insane,  did  not  most  sane 


322  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

people  agree  in  it  ?  And  thus  it  is  througliout.  The  policy  of 
quiescence  is  adopted  where  active  interference  is  all-essen- 
tial ;  while  time,  and  energy,  and  money,  are  absorbed  in 
interfering  with  things  that  should  be  left  to  themselves. 
Those  who  condemn  tlie  let-alone  policy  in  respect  to  matters 
which,  to  say  the  least,  are  not  of  vital  importance,  advocate 
or  tolerate  the  let-alone  policy  in  respect  to  vitally-important 
matters.  Contemplated  from  the  biological  point  of  view, 
their  course  is  doubly  mischievous.  They  impede  adaptation 
of  human  natui*e  to  the  social  state,  both  by  what  they  do  and 
by  what  they  leave  undone. 

Neither  the  limits  of  this  chapter,  nor  its  purpose,  permit 
exposition  of  the  various  other  truths  which  Biology  yields 
as  data  for  Sociology.  Enough  has  been  said  in  proof  of  that 
which  was  to  be  shown — the  use  of  biological  study  as  a  prep- 
aration for  grasping  sociological  truths. 

The  effect  to  be  looked  for  from  it,  is  that  of  giving  strength 
and  clearness  to  convictions  otherwise  feeble  and  vague.  Sun- 
dry of  the  doctrines  I  have  presented  under  their  biological 
aspects,  are  doctrines  admitted  in  considerable  degrees.  Such 
acquaintance  with  the  laws  of  life  as  tliey  have  gathered  in- 
cidentally, lead  many  to  suspect  that  appliances  for  px-eserv- 
ing  the  physically-feeble,  bring  results  that  are  not  wholly 
good.  Otliei'S  there  are  who  occasionally  get  glimpses  of  evils 
caused  by  fostering  the  reckless  and  tlie  stupid.  But  their 
susj)icions  and  qualms  fail  to  determine  their  conduct,  because 
the  inevitableness  of  the  bad  consequences  has  not  been  made 
adequately  clear  by  the  study  of  Biology  at  largo.  When 
countless  ilhtstrations  have  shown  Ibem  that  all  slrongth,  all 
faculty,  all  iitness,  presented  by  every  living  thing,  has  arisen 
partly  by  a  growth  of  each  power  consequent  on  exercise  of 
it,  and  partly  by  the  more  frequent  survival  and  greater  multi- 
l)lication  of  tlie  better-endowed  individuals,  entailing  gradual 
<lisapi)earan<'e  of  the  worse-oidowed — when  it  is  seen  that  all 
[»i'rfecti(»n,  bcxlily  and  mental,  has  been  achieved  through  this 
process,  and  that  suspension  of  it  nmst  cause  cessation  of  prog- 
rciSH,  while  reversal  of  it  would  bring  universal  decay — when 
it  is  soon  that  the  ini.sohiefs  enlailod  by  disrog.ird  of  these 
truths,  though  they  ni;iy  be  slow,  arc  cei'tain ;  there  comes  a 


PllEPAllATION   IN   BIOLOGY.  323 

conviction  that  social  policy  must  be  conformed  to  them,  and 
that  to  ignore  them  is  madness. 

Did  not  experience  prepare  one  to  find  everywhere  a  degree 
of  irrationality  remarkable  in  beings  who  distinguish  them- 
selves as  rational,  one  might  have  assunuxl  that,  before  devis- 
ing modes  of  dealing  with  citizens  in  their  corporate  relations, 
special  attention  would  be  given  to  the  natures  of  these  citi- 
zens individually  considered,  and  by  implication  to  the  na- 
tures of  living  things  at  large.  Put  a  carpenter  into  a  black- 
smith's shop,  and  set  him  to  forge,  to  weld,  to  harden,  to 
anneal,  etc.,  and  he  will  not  need  the  blacksmith's  jeers  to 
show  him  how  foolish  is  the  attempt  to  make  and  mend  tools 
before  he  has  learnt  the  properties  of  iron.  Let  the  carpenter 
challenge  the  blacksmith,  who  knows  little  about  wood  in 
general  and  nothing  abont  particular  kinds  of  wood,  to  do  his 
work,  and  unless  the  blacksmith  declines  to  make  himself  a 
laughing-stock,  he  is  pretty  certain  to  saw  askew,  to  choke  up 
his  plane,  and  presently  to  break  his  tools  or  cut  his  fingers. 
But  while  everyone  sees  the  folly  of  sux^j^osing  that  wood  or 
iron  can  be  shaped  and  fitted,  without  an  apprenticeship  dur- 
ing which  their  ways  of  behaving  are  made  familiar  ;  no  one 
sees  any  folly  in  undertaking  to  devise  institutions,  and  to 
shape  human  nature  in  tins  way  or  that  way,  without  a  pre- 
liminary study  of  Man,  and  of  Life  in  genei'al  as  explaining 
Man's  life.  For  simple  functions  we  insist  on  elaborate  spe- 
cial preparations  extending  through  years  ;  while  for  the  most 
complex  function,  to  be  adequately  discharged  not  even  by 
the  wisest,  we  require  no  preparation  ! 

How  absurd  are  the  prevailing  conceptions  about  these 
matters,  we  shall  see  still  more  clearly  on  turning  to  consider 
that  more  special  discipline  which  should  precede  the  study 
of  Sociology ;  namely,  the  study  of  Mental  Science. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

PREPARATION  IN  PSYCHOLOGY. 

Probably  astonishment  would  make  the  reporters  drop 
their  pencils,  were  any  member  of  Parliament  to  enunciate  a 
psychological  principle  as  justifying  his  opposition  to  a  pro- 
posed measure.  That  some  law  of  association  of  ideas,  or 
some  trait  in  emotional  development,  should  be  deliberately 
set  forth  as  a  sufficient  ground  for  saying  "  aye  "  or  "  no  "  to  a 
motion  for  second  reading,  would  doubtless  be  too  much  for 
the  gTavity  of  legislators.  And  along  with  laugliter  from 
many  there  would  come  from  a  few  cries  of  "  question  :  "  the 
entire  irrelevancy  to  the  matter  in  hand  being  conspicuous. 
It  is  true  that  during  debates  the  possible  behaviour  of  citizens 
under  the  suggested  arrangements  is  described.  Evasions  of 
tliis  or  that  ])rovision,  difficulties  in  canying  it  out,  ^irobabili- 
ties  of  resistance,  connivance,  corruption,  &c.,  are  urged  ;  and 
these  tacitly  assert  that  the  mind  of  man  has  certain  charac- 
ters, and  under  the  conditions  named  is  likely  to  act  in  certain 
ways.  In  other  words,  there  is  an  implied  recognition  of  the 
truth  that  tlie  otl'ects  of  a  law  will  depend  on  tlie  manner  in 
wliicli  Inuiian  intelligence  and  human  feeling  are  influenced 
by  it.  Experiences  of  men's  conduct  which  the  legislator  has 
gatliered,  and  which  lie  ])avfi.'illy  sorted  in  his  me?nory,  fur- 
nish him  with  ciTijiirical  notions  that  guide  his  judgment  on 
each  (picstioii  raised;  and  he  would  think  it  folly  to  ignore  all 
this  unsystematized  knowledge  about  ])eople's  characters  and 
actions.  But  at  the  same  I  inn' Ik^  regards  ,is  foolish  the  pro- 
])osm1  to  ju'ofeed,  not  on  vaguely-generalized  facts,  btit  on 
f;iets  ae<'urately  generalized  ;  and,  as  still  more  foolish,  the 
proj)r)sal  to  merge  these  minor  definite  generalizations  in  gen- 

8S4 


PREPARATION  IN  PSYCHOLOGY.  325 

eralizatioiis  expressing  the  ultimate  laws  of  Mind.     Guidance 
by  intuition  seems  to  liim  much  more  rational. 

Of  course,  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  his  intuition  is  of 
small  value.     How  should  I  say  this,  remembering  the  im- 
mense accumulation  of  experiences  by  which  his   thoughts 
have  been  moulded  into  harmony  with  tilings  ?    We  all  know 
that  when  the  successful  man  of  business  is  urged  by  wife 
and  daugliters  to  get  into  Parliament,  that  they  may  attain  a 
higher  social  standing,  he  always  replies  that  his  occupations 
tlirough  life  have  left  him  no  leisure  to  prepare  himself,  by 
collecting  and  digesting  the  voluminous  evidence  respecting 
tlie  effects  of  institutions  and  policies,  and  that  he  fears  he 
might  do  mischief.     If  the  heir  to  some  large  estate,  or  scion 
of  a  noble  house  powerful  in  the  locality,  receives  a  deputation 
asking  him  to  stand  for  the  county,  we  constantly  read  that 
he  pleads  inadequate  knowledge  as  a  reason   for  declining: 
perhaps  hinting  that  after  ten  years  spent  in  the  needful  studies, 
he  may  have  courage  to  undertake  the  heavy  responsibilities 
proposed  to  him.    So,  too,  we  have  the  familiar  fact  that  when, 
at  length,  men  who  have  gathered  vast  stores  of  political  in- 
formation, gain  the  confidence  of  voters  who  know  how  care- 
fully they  have  thus  fitted  themselves,  it  still  perpetually  hap- 
pens that  after  election  they  find  they  have  entered  on  their 
work  prematurely.    It  is  true  that  beforehand  they  had  sought 
anxiously  through  the  records  of  the  past,  that  they  might 
avoid  legislative  errors  of  multitudinous  kinds,  like  those  com- 
mitted in  early  times.     Nevertheless  when  Acts  are  proposed 
referring  to  matters  dealt  with  in  past  generations  by  Acts 
long  since  cancelled  or  obsolete,  immense  inquiries  open  before 
them.     Even  limiting  themselves  to  the  112G  Acts  repealed  in 
1823-9,  and  the  further  770  repealed  in  1861,  they  find  that  to 
learn  what  these  aimed  at,  how  they  worked,  why  they  failed, 
and  whence  arose  the  mischiefs  they  wi'ought,  is  an  arduous 
task,  which  yet  they  feel  bound  to  undertake  lest  they  should 
re-inflict  these  mischiefs  ;  and  hence  tlie  reason  why  so  many 
break  down  under  the  effort,  and  retire  with  health  destroyed. 
Nay,  moi-e — on  those  with  constitutions  vigorous  enough  to 
carry  them  through  such  inquiries,  there  continually  presses 
the  duty  of  making  yet  further  inquiries.     Besides  tracing  the 
results  of  abandoned  laws  in  other  societies,  there  is  at  home, 


326  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

year  by  year,  more  futile  law-making  to  be  investigated  and 
lessons  to  be  di'awn  from  it ;  as,  for  example,  from  the  134 
Public  Acts  passed  in  1856-7,  of  which  all  but  68  are  wholly 
or  partially  repealed.*  And  thus  it  happens  that,  as  every 
autumn  shows  us,  even  the  strongest  men,  finding  their  lives 
during  the  recess  over-taxed  with  the  needful  study,  ai'e  obliged 
so  to  locate  themselves  that  by  an  occasional  day's  hard  riding 
after  the  hounds,  or  a  long  walk  over  the  moors  with  gun  in 
hand,  they  may  be  enabled  to  bear  the  excessive  strain  on  their 
nervous  systems.  Of  course,  tlierefore,  I  am  not  so  unreason- 
able as  to  deny  that  judgments,  even  empirical,  which  are 
guided  by  such  carefully-amassed  experiences  must  be  of 
much  worth. 

But  fully  recognizing  the  vast  amount  of  information 
which  the  legislator  has  laboriously  gathered  from  the 
accounts  of  institutions  and  laws,  past  and  present,  here  and 
elsewhere  ;  and  admitting  that  before  thus  instructing  himself 
he  would  no  more  think  of  enforcing  a  new  law  than  would  a 
medical  student  tliink  of  plunging  an  operating-knife  into  the 
human  body  before  learning  wliere  tlie  arteries  ran ;  tlae  re- 
markable anomaly  hei'c  demanding  our  attention  is,  that  he 
objects  to  anything  like  analysis  of  these  phenomena  he  has 
so  diligently  collected,  and  has  no  faith  in  conclusions  drawn 
from  the  ensemble  of  them.  Not  discriminating  very  correctly 
betweeii  the  word  "general"  and  the  word  "abstract,"  and  re- 
gai'ding  as  abstract  principles  what  are  in  nearly  all  cases 
general  principles,  he  speaks  contemptuously  of  these  as  be- 
longing to  the  region  of  theory,  and  as  not  concerning  the 
law-maker.  Any  wide  trutli  that  is  insistod  u]ion  as  being  im- 
plied in  many  narrow  trutlis,  .seems  to  him  remote  from  ro;ility 
and  unimportant  for  guidance.  Tlie  results  of  recent  experi- 
ments in  legislation  he  tliinks  worth  attending  to  ;  imd  if  any 
one  reminds  him  of  the  oxjierimeids  lie  has  road  .so  mncli 
al)out,  tliat  wore  made  in  otlior  times  and  otlior  places,  ho  re- 
gards those  also,  .s(»p;ii-ale]y  taken,  as  deserving  of  consideration. 
But  if,  in.stoad  of  sfudying  special  classes  of  legislative  expori- 
)nents,  somooiK;  coiiiparos  many  classes  together,  gonoralizos 
llie  results,  and  ])rop»)sos  to  bo  guided  by  the  gonorali/ation, 
li(^  shakos  his  hoiid  scoj)lic;i]ly.  And  his  .scoi)tioisin  i)assos  into 
ridicule  if  it  is  pi-ojuxsed  to  aillliate  such  gonei'ulizcd  i-esults  on 


PREPARATION  IN  PSYCHOLOGY.  327 

the  laws  of  Mind.  To  prescribe  for  society  on  tlie  strength  of 
countless  unclassified  observations,  appears  to  him  a  sensible 
course;  but  to  collig'ate  and  systematize  the  observations  so 
as  to  educe  tendencies  of  human  behaviour  displayed  through- 
out cases  of  numerous  kinds,  to  trace  these  tendencies  to  their 
soui'ces  in  the  mental  natures  of  men,  and  thence  to  draw  con- 
clusions for  guidance,  appears  to  him  a  visionary  course. 

Let  us  look  at  some  of  the  fundamental  facts  he  ignores, 
and  at  the  results  for  ignoring  them. 

Rational  legislation,  based  as  it  can  only  be  on  a  true  theory 
of  conduct,  which  is  derivable  only  from  a  true  theory  of 
mind,  must  recognize  as  a  datum  the  direct  connexion  of  action 
with  feeling.  That  feeling  and  action  bear  a  constant  ratio,  is 
a  statement  needing  qualification ;  for  at  the  one  extreme 
there  are  automatic  actions  which  take  place  without  feeling, 
and  at  the  other  extreme  there  are  feelings  so  intense  that,  by 
deranging  the  vital  functions,  they  impede  or  awest  action. 
But  speaking  of  those  activities  which  life  in  general  presents, 
it  is  a  law  tacitly  recognized  by  all,  though  not  distinctly  for- 
mulated, that  action  and  feeling  vary  together  in  their 
amounts.  Passivity  and  absence  of  facial  expression,  both 
implying  rest  of  the  muscles,  are  held  to  show  that  there  is 
being  experienced  neither  much  sensation  nor  much  emotion. 
"While  the  degree  of  external  demonstration,  be  it  in  move- 
ments tliat  rise  finally  to  spasms  and  contortions,  or  be  it  in 
sounds  that  end  in  laughter  and  slu'ieks  and  groans,  is  habitu- 
ally accepted  as  a  measure  of  the  pleasure  or  pain,  sensational 
or  emotional.  And  so,  too,  where  continued  expenditure  of 
energy  is  seen,  be  it  in  a  violent  struggle  to  escape  or  be  it  in 
the  persevering  pursuit  of  an  object,  the  quantity  of  efPort  is 
held  to  show  the  quantity  of  feeling. 

This  truth,  undeniable  in  its  generality,  whatever  qualifica- 
tions secondary  truths  make  in  it,  nmst  be  joined  with  the 
truth  that  cognition  does  7iot  produce  action.  If  I  tread  on 
a  pin,  or  unawares  dip  my  hand  into  very  hot  water,  I  start : 
the  strong  sensation  produces  motion  without  any  thouglit 
intervening.  Conversely,  the  proposition  that  a  pin  pricks, 
or  that  hot  water  scalds,  leaves  me  quite  unmoved.  True,  if 
to  one  of  these  propositions  is  joined  the  idea  that  a  pin  is 


328  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

about  to  pierce  my  skin,  or  to  the  other  the  idea  that  some 
hot  water  will  fall  on  it,  there  results  a  tendency,  more  or  less 
decided,  to  shrink.  But  that  which  causes  shrinking  is  the 
ideal  pain.  The  statement  that  the  pin  will  hurt  or  the  water 
scald,  produces  no  effect  so  long  as  there  is  nothing  beyond  a 
recognition  of  its  meaning :  it  produces  an  effect  only  when 
the  pain  verbally  asserted,  becomes  a  pain  actually  conceived 
as  impending — only  when  there  rises  in  consciousness  a  repre- 
sentation of  the  pain,  which  is  a  faint  form  of  the  pain  as 
before  felt.  That  is  to  say,  the  cause  of  movement  here,  as 
in  other  cases,  is  a  feeling  and  not  a  cognition.  What 

we  see  even  in  these  simplest  actions,  runs  through  actions  of 
all  degrees  of  complexity.  It  is  never  the  knowledge  which 
is  the  moving  agent  in  conduct ;  but  it  is  always  the  feeling 
which  goes  along  with  tliat  knowledge,  or  is  excited  by  it. 
Though  the  drunkard  knows  that  after  to-day's  debauch  will 
come  to-morrow's  headache,  yet  he  is  not  deterred  by  con- 
sciousness of  this  truth,  unless  the  penalty  is  distinctly  repre- 
sented —unless  there  rises  in  his  consciousness  a  vivid  idea  of 
the  misery  to  be  borne — unless  there  is  excited  in  him  an 
adequate  amount  of  feeling  antagonistic  to  his  desire  for 
drink.  Similarly  with  improvidence  in  general.  If  coming 
evils  are  imagined  with  clearness  and  the  threatened  suffer- 
ings ideally  felt,  thei'c  is  a  due  clieck  on  the  tendency  to  take 
immediate  gratiiications  without  stint ;  but  in  the  absence  of 
that  consciousness  of  future  ills  which  is  constituted  by  the 
ideas  of  pains,  distinct  or  vague,  the  passing  desire  is  not 
opposed  effectually.  The  trulli  that  recklessness  brings  dis- 
tress, fully  acknowledged  though  it  may  be,  remains  in- 
operative. The  mere  cognition  docs  not  affect  conduct — 
conduct  is  affected  only  when  the  cognition  passes  out  of  that 
intellectual  form  in  which  the  idea  of  distress  is  ]i1(l(>  more 
than  voHkiI.  into  a  form  in  wliicli  this  terin  of  tlie  proposition 
is  developed  into  a  vivid  imagination  of  disti'oss — a  mass  of 
painful    feeling.  It   is   thus  with   conduct   of    every 

kind.  See  tliis  group  of  persons  clustered  at  the  river  side. 
A  l)oat  has  ups(>t.  and  some  one  is  in  danger  of  drowning. 
Tlic  fact  that  in  the  aliscnce  of  aid  the  youtii  in  the  water 
will  surely  die,  is  known  to  them  all.  That  by  swiminiiig 
to  his  a.ssistance  his  life  may  be  saved,  is  a  i)i()i»osition  denied 


PREPARATION  IN  PSYCHOLOGY.  329 

by  none  of  them.  The  duty  of  helping  fellow-creatures  who 
are  in  difficulties,  they  have  been  taxii^ht  all  their  lives  ;  and 
they  will  severally  admit  that  runninj^  a  rislc  to  prevent  a 
death  is  praiseworthy.  Nevertheless,  though  sundry  of  them 
can  swim,  they  do  nothing  beyond  shouting  for  assistance  or 
giving  advice.  But  now  here  comes  one  who,  tearing  otf  his 
coat,  jilunges  in  to  the  rescue.  In  what  does  he  differ  from 
the  others  ?  Not  in  knowledge.  Their  cognitions  are  equally 
clear  with  his.  They  know  as  well  as  he  does  that  death  is 
impending ;  and  know,  too,  how  it  may  be  prevented.  In 
him,  however,  these  cognitions  arouse  certain  correlative  emo- 
tions more  strongly  than  they  are  aroused  in  the  rest.  Groups 
of  feelings  are  excited  in  all ;  but  whereas  in  the  others  the 
deterrent  feelings  of  fear,  &c.,  j)repon derate,  in  him  there  is  a 
surplus  of  the  feelings  excited  by  sympathy,  joined,  it  may  be, 
with  others  not  of  so  high  a  kind.  In  each  case,  however, 
the  behaviour  is  not  determined  by  knowledge,  but  by  emo- 
tion. Obviously,  change  in  the  actions  of  these  passive  spec- 
tators is  not  to  be  effected  by  making  their  cognitions  clearer, 
but  by  making  their  higher  feelings  sti-onger. 

Have  we  not  here,  then,  a  cardinal  psychological  truth  to 
which  any  rational  system  of  human  discipline  must  con- 
form ?  Is  it  not  manifest  that  a  legislation  which  ignores 
it  and  tacitly  assumes  its  opposite,  will  inevitably  fail  ?  Yet 
much  of  our  legislation  does  this ;  and  we  are  at  present, 
legislature  and  nation  together,  eagerly  pushing  forward 
schemes  which  proceed  on  the  postulate  that  conduct  is 
determined  not  by  feelings,  but  by  cognitions. 

For  what  else  is  the  assumption  underlying  this  anxious 
ui'ging-on  of  organizations  for  teaching  ?  What  is  the  root- 
notion  common  to  Secularists  and  Denominationalists,  but 
the  notion  that  spread  of  knowledge  is  the  one  thing  needful 
for  bettering  behaviour  ?  Having  both  swallowed  certain 
statistical  fallacies,  there  has  grown  up  in  them  the  belief 
that  State-education  will  check  ill-doing.  In  newspapers, 
they  have  often  met  with  comparisons  between  the  numbers 
of  criminals  who  can  read  and  write  and  the  numbers  who 
can  not ;  and  finding  the  numbers  who  can  not  greatly  exceed 
the  numbers  who  can,  they  accept  the  inference  that  igno- 


330  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

ranee  is  the  cause  of  crime.  It  does  not  occur  to  them  to  ask 
whether  other  statistics,  similarly  dra^yn  up,  would  not  prove 
with  like  conclusiveness  that  crime  is  caused  by  absence  of 
ablutions,  or  by  lack  of  clean  linen,  or  by  bad  ventilation,  or 
by  want  of  a  separate  bed-room.  Go  through  any  jail  and 
ascertain  how  many  prisoners  had  been  in  the  habit  of  taking 
a  morning  bath,  and  you  would  find  that  criminality  habit- 
ually went  with  dirtiness  of  skin.  Count  up  those  who  had 
possessed  a  second  suit  of  clothes,  and  a  comparison  of  the 
figures  would  show  you  that  but  a  small  percentage  of  crim- 
inals were  habitually  able  to  change  their  garments.  Inquire 
whether  they  had  lived  in  main  streets  or  down  courts,  and 
you  would  discover  that  nearly  all  urbane  crime  comes  from 
holes  and  corners.  Similarly,  a  fanatical  advocate  of  total 
abstinence  or  of  sanitary  improvement,  could  get  equally- 
strong  statistical  justifications  for  his  belief.  But  if,  not 
accepting  the  random  inference  pi*esented  to  you  that  igno- 
rance and  crime  are  cause  and  effect,  you  consider,  as  above, 
whether  crime  may  not  with  equal  reason  be  ascribed  to 
various  other  causes,  you  are  led  to  see  that  it  is  really  con- 
nected with  an  inferior  mode  of  life,  itself  usually  conse- 
quent on  original  inferiority  of  nature ;  and  you  are  led 
to  see  that  ignorance  is  simply  one  of  the  concomitants,  no 
more  to  be  held  the  cause  of  crime  than  various  other  con- 
comitants. 

But  this  obvious  criticism,  and  the  obvious  counter-conclu- 
sion it  implies,  are  not  simply  overlooked,  but,  when  insisted 
on,  seem  powerless  to  affect  the  belief  which  has  taken  pos- 
session of  nion.  Disa]ipointmont  alone  will  now  affect  it.  A 
wave  of  opinion  reacliinga  certain  height,  cannot  be  changed 
by  any  evidence  or  argument :  but  has  to  spend  itself  in  the 
gradual  course  of  things  before  a  reaction  of  opinion  can 
arise.  Otherwise  it  would  be  incoin])reh(Misib]e  that  this 
confidence  in  the  curative  elFects  of  tcacliing,  wliich  men 
liave  carelessly  allowed  to  be  generated  in  them  by  tlie  re- 
iterations of  doctrinaire  ])olitician.s,  should  survive  the  direct 
disproofs  yielded  by  daily  experience.  Is  it  not  the  trouble 
of  every  inotber  aTid  every  governess,  tliat  perpetual  insisting 
on  tlie  right  ami  denouncing  th(^  wrong  do  not  sulllce  ?  Is 
it  not  the  constant  complaint  that  on  many  natures  reason- 


PREPARATION  IN   PSYCHOLOGY.  331 

ing  and  explanation  and  the  clear  demonstration  of  con- 
sequences are  scarcely  at  all  oi^erative ;  that  where  they 
are  operative  there  is  a  more  or  loss  marked  difference  of 
emotional  nature  ;  and  that  where,  having  before  failed,  they 
begin  to  succeed,  change  of  feeling  rather  than  difference  of 
apprehension  is  the  cause  ?  Do  we  not  similarly  hear  from 
every  housekeeper  that  servants  usually  pay  but  little  atten- 
tion to  reproofs ;  that  they  go  on  perversely  in  old  habits, 
regardless  of  clear  evidence  of  their  foolishness ;  and  that 
their  actions  are  to  be  altered  not  by  explanations  and 
reasonings,  but  by  either  the  fear  of  penalties  or  the  ex- 
perience of  penalties — that  is,  by  the  emotions  awakened  in 
them  ?  When  we  turn  from  domestic  life  to  the  life  of  the 
outer  world,  do  not  like  disproofs  everywhere  meet  us  ?  Are 
not  fraudulent  banki-upts  educated  people,  and  getters-up  of 
bubble-companies,  and  makers  of  adulterated  goods,  and  users 
of  false  trade-marks,  and  retailers  vrho  have  light  weights, 
and  owners  of  unseaworthy  ships,  and  those  who  cheat  in- 
surance-companies, and  those  who  carry  on  turf -chicaneries, 
and  the  great  majority  of  gamblers  ?  Or,  to  take  a  more 
extreme  form  of  turpitude, — is  there  not,  among  those  who 
have  committed  murder  by  poison  within  our  memories,  a 
considerable  number  of  the  educated — a  number  bearing  as 
large  a  I'atio  to  the  educated  classes  as  does  the  total  number 
of  murderers  to  tlie  total  population  ? 

This  belief  in  the  moralizing  effects  of  intellectual  culture, 
flatly  contradicted  by  facts,  is  absurd  d  priori.  What  imag- 
inable connexion  is  there  between  the  learning  that  certain 
clusters  of  marks  on  paper  stand  for  certain  words,  and  the 
getting  a  higher  sense  of  duty  ?  What  possible  effect  can  ac- 
quirement of  facility  in  making  written  signs  of  sounds,  have 
in  strengthening  the  desire  to  do  right  ?  How  does  knowledge 
of  the  multiplication-table,  or  quickness  in  adding  and  divid- 
ing, so  increase  the  sympathies  as  to  restrain  the  tendency  to 
trespass  against  fellow-creatures  ?  In  what  way  can  the  at- 
tainment of  accuracy  in  spelling  and  parsing,  &c.,  make  the 
sentiment  of  justice  more  powerful  than  it  was ;  or  why  from 
stores  of  geographical  information,  perseveringly  gained,  is 
there  likely  to  come  increased  regard  for  trutii  ?  Tlie  irrela- 
tion  between  such  causes  and  such  effects,  is  almost  as  great 


332  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

as  that  between  exercise  of  the  finders  and  strensrtheninfr  of 
the  leg's.  One  who  should  by  lessons  iu  Latin  hope  to  give  a 
knowledge  of  geometry,  or  one  who  should  expect  practice  in 
drawing  to  be  followed  by  expressive  rendering  of  a  sonata, 
would  be  thought  fit  for  an  asylum ;  and  yet  he  would  be 
scarcely  more  irrational  than  are  those  who  by  discipline  of 
the  intellectual  faculties  expect  to  produce  better  feelings. 

This  faith  in  lesson-books  and  readings  is  one  of  the  super- 
stitions of  the  age.  Even  as  appliances  to  intellectual  culture 
books  are  gi^eatly  over-estimated.  Instead  of  second-hand 
knowledge  being  regarded  as  of  less  value  than  first-hand 
knowledge,  and  as  a  knowledge  to  be  sought  only  where  first- 
hand knowledge  cannot  be  had,  it  is  actually  regarded  as  of 
greater  value.  Something  gathei'ed  from  ])rinted  pages  is  sup- 
posed to  enter  into  a  course  of  education  ;  but  if  gathered  by 
observation  of  Life  and  Nature,  is  supposed  not  thus  to  enter. 
Reading  is  seeing  by  proxy — is  learning  indirectly  through 
another  man's  faculties  instead  of  directly  through  one's  own 
faculties ;  and  such  is  the  prevailing  bias  that  the  indirect 
learning  is  thought  pi'cferable  to  the  direct  leai*ning,  and 
usurps  the  name  of  cultivation !  We  smile  when  told  that 
savages  consider  writing  as  a  kind  of  magic  ;  and  we  laugh  at 
the  story  of  the  negro  wlio  hid  a  letter  under  a  stone,  that  it 
might  not  inform  against  him  when  he  devoured  the  fruit  he 
was  sent  with.  Yet  the  current  notions  about  printed  infor- 
mation betray  a  kindred  delusion  :  a  kind  of  magical  elficacy 
is  ascribed  to  ideas  gained  through  artificial  a]>i)liancos,  as 
compared  with  ideas  otherwise  gained.  And  this  delusion, 
injurious  in  its  effects  even  on  intellectual  culture,  produces 
effects  still  more  injurious  on  moral  culture,  by  generating 
the  assumption  that  this,  too,  can  be  got  by  reading  and  the 
repeating  of  lessons. 

It  will,  I  know,  l)e  said  that  not  from  inh'llcctual  (caching 
but  from  moral  teaching,  is  improvement  of  conduct  and 
diminution  of  crinic  looked  for.  While,  un<juestional)Iy, 
many  of  those  who  urge  on  educational  sclienu's  l)eli(>ve  in 
the  moralizing  ell'ects  of  knowledge  in  general,  it  nnist  be  ad- 
mitted (hat  some  hold  geijeral  knowledge  to  b(>  inadequate, 
.■ind  coiitciid  llml  nilcs  of  ri;^h(  conduct  nnist  he  taught.  Al- 
ready, liowevei",  reasons  liave  heen  giv<'n  why  the  expectations 


PREPARATION   IN   PSYCHOLOGY.  333 

even  of  these,  are  illusory ;  proceeding,  as  they  do,  on  the  as- 
suiiii)ti(>n  that  the  intellectual  acceptance  of  moral  precepts 
will  produce  conformity  to  them.  Plenty  more  reasons  are 
forthcoming.  I  will  not  dwell  on  the  contradictions  to  this 
assumption  furnished  by  the  Chinese,  to  all  of  whom  the  high 
ethical  maxims  of  Confucius  arc  taught,  and  who  yet  fail  to 
show  us  a  conduct  pi'oportionatcly  exemplary.  Nor  will  I 
enlarge  on  the  lesson  to  be  derived  from  the  United  States,  the 
school-system  of  which  brings  up  the  whole  population  under 
the  daily  influence  of  chapters  which  set  forth  principles  of 
right  conduct,  and  which  nevertheless  in  its  political  life,  and 
by  many  of  its  social  occurrences,  shows  us  that  conformity  to 
these  principles  is  anything  but  complete.  It  will  suffice  if  I 
limit  myself  to  evidence  supplied  by  our  own  society,  past  and 
present;  which  negatives,  very  decisively,  these  sanguine  ex- 
pectations. For  what  have  we  been  doing  all  these  many 
centuries  by  our  religious  agencies,  but  preaching  right  prin- 
ciples to  old  and  young  ?  What  has  been  the  aim  of  services 
in  our  ten  thousand  churches  week  after  week,  but  to  enforce 
a  code  of  good  conduct  by  promised  rew^ards  and  threatened 
penalties  ? — the  whole  population  having  been  for  many  gen- 
erations compelled  to  listen.  What  have  the  multitudinous 
Dissenting  chapels  been  used  for,  unless  as  places  where  pur- 
suance of  right  and  desistance  from  wu^ong  have  been  unceas- 
ingly commended  to  all  from  childhood  upwards  ?  And  if 
now  it  is  held  that  something  more  must  be  done — if,  notwith- 
standing perpetual  explanations  and  denunciations  and  ex- 
hortations, the  misconduct  is  so  great  that  society  is  endan- 
gered, why,  after  all  this  insistance  has  failed,  is  it  expected 
that  more  insistance  will  succeed  ?  See  here  the  proposals  and 
the  implied  beliefs.  Teaching  by  clergymen  not  having 
had  the  desired  effect,  let  us  try  teaching  by  schoolmasters. 
Bible-reading  from  a  pulpit,  w^th  the  accompaniment  of  im- 
posing architecture,  painted  windows,  tombs,  and  "dim  re- 
ligious light,"  having  proved  inadequate,  suppose  we  try 
bible  -  reading  in  rooms  with  bare  walls,  relieved  only  by 
maps  and  drawings  of  animals.  Commands  and  interdicts 
uttered  by  a  surpliced  priest  to  minds  prepared  by  chant  and 
organ-peal,  not  having  been  obeyed,  let  us  see  whether  they 
will  be  obeyed  when  mechanically  repeated  in  schoolboy  sing- 


33-1  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

song  to  a  threadbare  usher,  amid  the  buzz  of  lesson-learning 
and  clatter  of  slates.     Not  very  hopeful  proposals,  one  would 
say ;  proceeding,  as  they  do,  upon  one  or  other  of  the  beliefs, 
that  a  moral  precept  will  be  effective  in  proportion  as  it  is 
received   without    emotional    accompaniment,   and    that    its 
effectiveness  will   increase  in  proportion  to  the  number  of 
times  it  is  repeated.    Both  these  beliefs  are  directly  at  vari- 
ance with  the  results  of  psychological  analysis  and  of  daily 
experience.     Certainly,  such  influence  as  may  be  gained  by 
addressing  moral  truths  to  the  intellect,  is  made  greater  if  the 
accompaniments  arouse  an  appropriate  emotional  excitement, 
as  a  religious  service  does ;  while,  conversely,  there  can  be  no 
more  effectual  way  of  divesting  such  moral  truths  of  their 
impressiveness.  than   associating  them  with  the  prosaic  and 
vulgarizing    sounds    and    sights   and    smells    coming    from 
crowded  children.     And  no  less  certain  is  it  that  precepts 
often  heard  and  little  regarded,  lose  by  repetition  the  small 
influence  they  had.    What  do  public-schools  show  us  ?— are 
the  boys  rendered  merciful  to  one  another  by  listening  to  re- 
ligious injunctions  every  morning?    What  do  Universities 
show  us  ?— have  perpetual  chapels  habitually  made  under- 
graduates behave  better  than  the  average  of  young  men  ? 
What  do  Cathedral-toNvns  show  us  ? — is  there  in  tliem  a  moi-al 
tone  above  that  of  other  towns,  or  must  we  from  the  common 
saying,  "  the  nearer  the  Church,"  &c.,  infer  a  pervading  im- 
pression to  the  contraiy  ?    What  do  clergymen's  sons  show 
us  ?— has  constant   insistance  on  right  conduct  made  tlicni 
conspicuously  superior,  or  do  we  not  rather  hear  it  whispered 
that  something  like  an  opposite  effect  seems  produced.     Or.  to 
take  one  more  case,  what  do  religious  newspapers  sliow  us  ?— 
is  it  that  the  precepts  of  Christianity,  more  familiar  to  their 
writers  than  to  other  writers,  ;vre  more  clearly  to  be  traced  in 
their  articles,  or  has  there  not  ever  been  displayed  a  want  of 
cbarity  in  their  dealings  with  opponents,  and  is  it  not  still  dis- 
played V    Nowhere  do  we  find  that  repetition  of  rules  of  right, 
already  known  but  disr<>gardc(l.  ])n)duces  regard  for  tliom  ;  but 
we  lind  that,  contrariwise,  it  makes  regard  for  them  less  than 
before 


9 


'I'lie  jjrevailiug  assumptioji   is,  iudeed,  as  much  disjiroved 
by  analysis  as  it  Ia  contradicted  by  fauiiliar  facts.     Alre;uly 


PREPARATION   IN   PSYCHOLOGY.  335 

we  have  seen  that  the  connexion  is  between  action  and  feel- 
ing ;  and  hence  the  corollary  that  only  by  a  frequent  passing 
of  feeling  into  action,  is  the  tendency  to  such  action  strength- 
ened. Just  as  two  ideas  often  repeated  in  a  certain  order,  be- 
come coherent  in  that  order  ;  and  just  as  muscular  motions, 
at  fu'st  diificult  to  combine  properly  with  one  another  and 
with  guiding  perceptions,  become  by  practice  facile,  and  at 
lengtli  automatic  ;  so  the  recurving  production  of  any  conduct 
by  its  prompting  emotion,  makes  tliat  conduct  relatively  easy. 
Not  by  precept,  though  heard  daily ;  not  by  example,  unless  it 
is  followed ;  not  only  by  action,  often  caused  by  the  related 
feeling,  can  a  moral  habit  be  formed.  And  yet  this  truth, 
which  Mental  Science  clearly  teaches,  and  which  is  in  har- 
mony with  familiar  sayings,  is  a  truth  wholly  ignored  in 
current  educational  fanaticisms. 

There  is  ignored,  too,  the  correlative  truth ;  and  ignoring 
it  threatens  results  still  more  disastrous.  While  we  see  an 
expectation  of  benefits  which  the  means  used  cannot  achieve, 
we  see  no  consciousness  of  injuries  which  will  be  entailed  by 
these  means.  As  usually  happens  with  those  aljsorbed  in  the 
eager  pursuit  of  some  good  by  governmental  action,  there  is  a 
blindness  to  the  evil  reaction  on  the  natures  of  citizens.  Al- 
ready the  natures  of  citizens  have  suffered  from  kindred 
reactions,  due  to  actions  set  up  centuries  ago ;  and  now  the 
mischievous  effects  are  to  be  increased  by  furtlier  such  reac- 
tions. 

The  English  people  are  complained  of  as  improvident. 
Very  few  of  them  lay  by  in  anticipation  of  times  Avhcn  work 
is  slack ;  and  the  general  testimony  is  that  higher  wages 
commonly  result  only  in  more  extravagant  living  or  in  drink- 
ing to  greater  excess.  As  we  saw  a  while  since,  they  neglect 
opportunities  of  becoming  shareholders  in  the  Companies  they 
are  engaged  under ;  and  tliose  who  are  most  anxious  for  their 
welfare  despair  on  finding  how  little  tliey  do  to  raise  them- 
selves when  they  have  the  means.  This  tendency  to  seize 
immediate  gratification  regardless  of  future  penalty,  is  com- 
mented on  as  cliaracteristic  of  the  Englisli  people ;  and  con- 
trasts between  them  and  their  Continental  neighbours  having 
been  drawn,  surprise  is  expx^essed  that  such  contrasts  should 


336  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

exist.  Improvidence  is  spoken  of  as  an  inexplicable  trait  of 
the  race — no  regard  being  paid  to  the  fact  that  races  with 
which  it  is  compared  are  allied  in  blood.  The  people  of  Noi'- 
way  are  economical  and  extremely  prudent.  The  Danes,  too, 
are  thrifty ;  and  Defoe,  commenting  on  the  extravagance  of 
his  countrymen,  says  that  a  Dutchman  gets  rich  on  wages  out 
of  which  an  Englishman  but  just  lives.  So,  too,  if  we  take 
the  modern  Gei-mans.  Alike  by  the  complaints  of  the  Amer- 
icans, that  the  Germans  are  oustiiig  them  from  their  own 
businesses  by  working  hard  and  living  cheaply,  and  by  the 
success  here  of  German  traders  and  the  preference  shown  for 
German  waiters,  we  are  taught  that  in  other  divisions  of  the 
Teutonic  race  there  is  nothing  like  this  lack  of  self-control. 
Nor  can  we  ascribe  to  such  portion  of  Norman  blood  as  exists 
among  us,  this  peculiar  trait :  descendants  of  the  Normans  in 
France  are  industrious  and  saving.  Why,  then,  sliould  the 
English  people  be  improvident  ?  If  we  seek  explanation  in 
their  remote  lineage,  we  find  none ;  but  if  we  seek  it  in  the 
social  conditions  to  which  they  have  been  subject,  we  find  a 
sufficient  explanation.  Tlie   Eiiglisli    are    improvident 

because  they  have  been  for  ages  disci])! ined  in  imjn'ovideiice. 
Extravagance  has  been  made  liabilual  by  shielding  them 
from  the  sharp  penalties  extravagance  brings.  Carefulness 
has  been  discouraged  by  continually  showing  to  the  careful 
that  tliose  wlio  were  careless  did  as  well  as,  or  better  than, 
themseh^es.  Nay,  tliere  liave  been  positive  penalties  on  care- 
fulness. Labourers  working  hard  and  paying  their  way,  have 
constantly  found  themselves  called  on  to  help  in  supi)orting 
the  idle  around  ihem  ;  have  had  their  goods  takeii  inid<>r  dis- 
tress-warrants, tbat  paupers  might  be  fed ;  and  eventually 
liave  found  them.selves  and  their  children  reduced  also  to 
pauperism.*  Well-conducted  i)()()r  women.  sup])orting  them- 
selves without  aid  or  encouragement,  have  seen  the  ill-con- 
ducted receiving  parish-]iay  for  their  illegitimate  children. 
Nay,  to  such  extremes  has  the  ])rocess  gone,  that  women  with 
many  illegitimate  cliildrcn,  getting  fioiii  the  rates  a  weekly 
sum  for  each,  have  been  choseii  as  wives  by  ni(>ii  who  wanted 
the  sums  thus  derived  I  Generation  after  geniM'atiou  the  hon- 
est and  inde|)endent,  not  ni;irryiiig  till  tliey  had  ni<-aiis,  and 
Htriving  to  bring  up  their  families  without  assistance,  havo 


PREPARATION   IN    PSYCHOLOGY.  337 

been  saddled  with  extra  burdens,  and  hindered  from  leaving 
a  desirable  posterity ;  while  the  dissolute  and  the  idle,  espe- 
cially Avhen  given  to  that  lying"  and  servility  by  which  those 
in  authority  are  deluded,  have  been  helped  to  produce  and  to 
rear  progeny,  characterized,  like  themselves,  by  absence  of 
the  mental  traits  needed  for  good  citizenship.  And  then, 
after  centuries  during  which  we  have  been  breeding  the  race 
as  much  as  possible  from  the  improvident,  and  repressing  the 
multiplication  of  the  provident,  we  lift  our  hands  and  exclaim 
at  the  recklessness  our  people  exhibit !  If  men  who,  for  a 
score  generations,  had  by  preference  bred  from  their  worst- 
tempered  horses  and  their  least-sagacious  dogs,  were  then  to 
wonder  because  their  horses  were  vicious  and  their  dogs 
stupid,  we  should  think  the  absurdity  of  their  policy  paral- 
leled only  by  the  absurdity  of  their  astonishment ;  but  hu- 
man beings  instead  of  infei'ior  animals  being  in  question,  no 
absurdity  is  seen  either  in  the  policy  or  in  the  astonishment. 
And  now  something  more  serious  happens  than  the  over- 
looking of  these  evils  wrought  on  men's  natures  by  centuries 
of  demoralizing  influences.  We  are  deliberately  establishing 
further  such  influences.  Having,  as  much  as  we  could,  sus- 
pended the  civilizing  discijiline  of  an  industrial  life  so  cai'ried 
on  as  to  achieve  self-maintenance  without  injury  to  others, 
we  now  proceed  to  suspend  that  civilizing  discipline  in 
another  direction.  Having  in  successive  generations  done 
our  best  to  diminish  the  sense  of  responsibility,  by  warding- 
off  evils  which  disregard  of  resjionsibility  brings,  we  now 
carry  the  policy  further  by  relieving  parents  from  certain 
other  responsibilities  which,  in  the  order  of  nature,  fall  on 
them.  By  way  of  checking  recklessness,  and  discouraging 
improvident  marriages,  and  raising  the  conception  of  duty, 
we  are  difi:"using  the  belief  that  it  is  not  the  concern  of  parents 
to  fit  their  children  for  the  business  of  life  ;  but  that  the  na- 
tion is  bound  to  do  this.  Everywhere  there  is  a  tacit  enuncia- 
tion of  the  marvellous  doctrine  that  citizens  are  not  responsi- 
ble individually  for  thebririging-up,  each  of  his  own  chikh-en, 
but  that  these  same  citizens  incorporated  into  a  society,  are 
each  of  them  responsible  for  the  bringing-up  of  everybody 
else's  children  !  The  obligation  does  not  fall  u])on  A  in  his 
capacity  of  father,  to  rear  the  minds  as  well  as  the  bodies  of 


338  THE  STUDY   OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

his  offspring ;  but  in  his  capacity  of  citizen,  there  does  fall  on 
him  the  obligation  of  mentally  rearing  the  offspring  of  B,  C, 
D,  and  the  rest ;  who  similarly  have  their  direct  parental 
obligations  made  secondary  to  their  indirect  obligations  to 
children  not  their  own  !  Already  it  is  estimated  that,  as  mat- 
ters are  now  being  arranged,  parents  will  soon  pay  in  school- 
fees  for  their  own  children,  only  one-sixth  of  the  amount 
which  is  paid  by  them  through  taxes,  rates,  and  voluntary 
contributions,  for  children  at  large :  in  terms  of  money,  the 
claims  of  children  at  large  to  their  care,  will  be  taken  as  six 
times  the  claim  of  their  own  children  !  And  if,  looking  back 
forty  years,  we  observe  the  gi'owth  of  the  public  claim  verstts 
the  pi'ivate  claim,  we  may  infer  that  the  private  claim  will 
presently  be  absorbed  wholly.  Already  the  correlative  theory 
is  becoming  so  definite  and  positive  that  you  meet  with  the 
notion,  uttered  as  though  it  were  an  unquestionable  trutli, 
that  criminals  iwe  "  society's  failures.''  Presently  it  will  be 
seen  tliat,  since  good  bodily  development,  as  well  as  good 
mental  development,  is  a  pre-requisite  to  good  citizenship,  (for 
without  it  the  citizen  cannot  maintain  himself,  and  so  avoid 
wrong-doing,)  society  is  resi)onsibIe  also  for  the  proper  feeding 
and  clotliing  of  children  :  indeed,  in  School-Board  discussions, 
there  is  already  an  occasional  admission  that  no  logically- 
defensible  halting-place  can  be  found  between  the  two.  And 
so  we  are  progressing  towards  the  wonderful  notion,  here  and 
there  finding  tacit  exprcssiim,  that  people  are  to  marry  when 
they  feel  inclined,  and  other  people  are  to  take  the  conse- 
quences ! 

And  this  is  thought  to  be  the  policy  conducive  to  improve- 
ment of  behaviour.  Men  who  have  been  made  im])rovident 
by  being  shielded  from  many  of  the  evil  results  of  improvi- 
dence, are  now  to  be  made  more  provident  by  further  shield- 
ing them  from  the  evil  results  of  improvidence.  Having  had 
their  self-control  decreased  by  social  arrangements  which  less- 
ened the  Tieed  fi)r  self-control,  oilier  social  arrangements  are 
devised  which  will  nuike  self-control  still  less  needful  ;  and  it 
is  hoped  so  to  make  self-con  (vol  greater.  This  expectation  is 
absolutely  at  variance  with  the  whole  order  of  things.  Life 
of  every  kind,  human  included,  proceeds  on  ;ni  exact ly-o])po- 
site  principle.     All    lower  types  of  beings  show  us  that  the 


PREPARATION   IN   PSYCHOLOGY.  339 

rearing  of  offspring  affords  the  highest  discipline  for  the 
faculties.  The  parental  instinct  is  everywhere  that  which 
calls  out  the  energies  most  persistently,  and  in  the  greatest 
degi'ee  exercises  the  intelligence.  The  self-sacrifice  and  the 
sagacity  which  inferior  ci'eatures  display  in  the  care  of  their 
young,  are  often  commented  upon ;  and  everyone  may  see 
that  parenthood  produces  a  mental  exaltation  not  otherwise 
producible.  That  it  is  so  among  mankind  is  daily  proved. 
Continually  we  remark  that  men  who  were  random  grow 
steady  when  they  have  children  to  provide  for ;  and  vain, 
thoughtless  girls,  becoming  mothei'S,  begin  to  show  higher 
feelings,  and  capacities  that  were  not  before  drawn  out.  In 
both  there  is  a  daily  discipline  in  unselfishness,  in  industry, 
in  foresight.  The  parental  relation  strengthens  from  hour  to 
hour  the  habit  of  postponing  immediate  ease  and  egoistic 
pleasure  to  the  altruistic  pleasure  obtained  by  furthering  the 
welfare  of  offspring.  There  is  a  frequent  subordination  of 
the  claims  of  self  to  the  claims  of  fellow-beings ;  and  by  no 
other  agency  can  the  practice  of  tliis  subordination  be  so 
effectually  secured.  Not,  then,  by  a  decreased,  but  by  an 
increased,  sense  of  parental  responsibility  is  self-control  to  be 
made  greater  and  recklessness  to  be  checked.  And  yet  the 
policy  now  so  earnestly  and  undoubtingly  pursued  is  one 
which  will  inevitably  diminish  the  sense  of  parental  resi^onsi- 
bility.  This  all-important  discipline  of  parents'  emotions  is 
to  be  weakened  that  children  may  get  reading  and  grammar 
and  geography  more  generally  than  they  would  otherwise  do. 
A  superficial  intellectualization  is  to  be  secured  at  the  cost  of 
a  deep-seated  demoralization. 

Few,  I  suppose,  will  deliberately  assert  that  information  is 
important  and  character  relatively  unimportant.  Everj^one 
observes  from  time  to  time  how  much  more  valuable  to  him- 
self and  others  is  the  workman  who,  though  unable  to  read,  is 
diligent,  sober,  and  honest,  than  is  the  well-taught  workman 
who  breaks  his  engagements,  spends  days  in  drinking,  and 
neglects  his  family.  And,  comparing  members  of  the  upper 
classes,  no  one  doubts  that  the  spendthrift  or  the  gambler, 
however  good  his  intellectual  training,  is  inferior  as  a  social 
unit  to  the  man  who,  not  having  passed  tlu-ough  the  ajiproved 
curriculum,  nevertheless  iDrospers   by  performing  well   the 


340  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

work  he  undertakes,  and  pro\4des  for  his  chikhen  instead  of 
leaving  them  in  poverty  to  the  care  of  relatives.  That  is  to 
say,  looking  at  the  matter  in  the  concrete,  all  see  that  for 
social  welfare,  good  character  is  more  important  than  much 
knowledge.  And  yet  the  manifest  corollary  is  not  drawn. 
What  efPect  will  be  produced  on  chai'acter  by  artificial  appli- 
ances for  spreading  knowledge,  is  not  asked.  Of  the  ends  to 
be  kept  in  view  by  the  legislator,  all  are  unimportant  com- 
pared with  the  end  of  character-making ;  and  yet  character- 
making  is  an  end  wholly  unrecognized. 

Let  it  be  seen  that  the  future  of  a  nation  depends  on  the 
natures  of  its  units  ;  that  their  natures  ai'e  inevitably  modified 
in  adaptation  to  the  conditions  in  which  they  ai'e  placed ; 
that  the  feelings  called  into  play  by  these  conditions  will 
strengthen,  while  those  which  have  diminished  demands  on 
them  will  dwindle ;  and  it  will  be  seen  that  the  bettering  of 
conduct  can  be  effected,  not  by  insisting  on  maxims  of  good 
conduct,  still  less  by  mere  intellectual  culture,  but  only  by 
that  daily  exercise  of  the  higher  sentiments  and  repression  of 
the  lower,  which  results  from  keeping  men  subordinate  to  the 
requirements  of  orderly  social  life — letting  them  suffer  the 
inevitable  penalties  of  breaking  these  roquiromonts  and  rea]) 
the  benefits  of  conforming  to  them.  This  alone  is  national 
education. 

One  further  instance  of  the  need  for  psychological  in- 
quiries as  guides  to  sociological  conclusions  may  be  named — 
an  instance  of  quite  a  different  kind,  but  one  no  less  relevant 
to  questions  of  tlie  time.  I  refer  to  the  comparative  psj'^chol- 
ogy  of  the  sexes.  Women,  as  well  as  men,  are  units  in  a 
society  ;  and  tend  by  their  natiu'os  to  give  that  Sf)ciet3'  certain 
traits  of  structure  and  action.  Hence  the  question — Are  the 
mental  natures  of  men  and  women  the  same? — is  an  iinpor- 
tiint  one  to  the  sociologist.  If  they  are,  an  increase  of  femi- 
niiif  inlhicnc(>  is  not  likely  to  affect  Ihir  social  tyi>e  in  a 
marked  manner.  If  they  are  not,  the  social  tyi)e  will  iuevi- 
t;ibly  be  changed  by  increa.se  oi  feminine  influence. 

That  men  and  woiiiiii  are  mentally  .alike,  is  as  untrue  as 
that  they  are  alike  bodily.  .Just  as  certainly  as  they  have 
physical  differences  which  are  related  to  the  resjH'clive  parts 


PREPARATION  IN  PSYCHOLOGY.  34I 

they  play  iu  the  maintenance  of  the  race,  so  certainly  have 
they  psychical  differences,  similarly  related  to  their  respective 
shares  in  the  rearing  and  protection  of  offspring.  To  suppose 
that  along  with  the  unlikenesses  between  their  parental  activ- 
ities there  do  not  go  unlikenesses  of  mental  faculties,  is  to 
suppose  that  here  alone  in  all  Nature,  thei*e  is  no  adjustment 
of  special  powers  to  special  functions.* 

Two  classes  of  differences  exist  between  the  psychical,  as 
between  tlio  physical,  structures  of  men  and  women,  which 
are  both  determined  by  this  same  fundamental  need — adapta- 
tion to  the  paternal  and  maternal  duties.  The  fii'st  set  of 
differences  is  that  which  results  from  a  somewhat-earlier 
arrest  of  individual  evolution  in  women  than  in  men  ;  necessi- 
tated by  the  reservation  of  vital  power  to  meet  the  cost  of  re- 
production. Whereas,  in  man,  individual  evolution  continues 
until  the  physiological  cost  of  self-maintenance  very  nearly 
balances  what  nutrition  suj)plies,  in  woman,  an  arrest  of  indi- 
vidual development  takes  place  while  there  is  yet  a  con- 
siderable margin  of  nutrition  :  otherwise  there  could  be  no 
offspring.  Hence  the  fact  that  girls  come  earlier  to  maturity 
than  boys.  Hence,  too,  the  chief  contrasts  in  bodily  form : 
the  masculine  figure  being  distinguished  from  the  feminine 
by  the  greater  relative  sizes  of  the  parts  wliich  carry  on  ex- 
ternal actions  and  entail  physiological  cost — the  limbs,  and 
those  thoracic  viscera  which  their  activity  immediately  taxes. 
And  hence,  too,  the  physiological  truth  that  throughout  their 
lives,  but  especially  during  the  child-bearing  age,  women  ex- 
hale smaller  quantities  of  carbonic  acid,  relatively  to  their 
weights,  than  men  do  ;  showing  that  the  evolution  of  energy 
is  relatively  less  as  well  as  absolutely  less.  This  rather  earlier 
cessation  of  individual  evolution  thus  necessitated,  showing 
itself  in  a  rather  smaller  gi-owth  of  the  nervo-muscular  sys- 
tem, so  that  both  the  limbs  which  act  and  the  brain  which 
makes  them  act  are  somewhat  less,  has  two  results  on  the 
mind.  The  mental  manifestations  have  somewhat  less  of 
general  power  or  niassiveness  ;  and  beyond  this  there  is  a  per- 
ceptible falling-short  in  tliose  two  faculties,  intellectual  and 
emotional,  which  are  the  latest  products  of  human  evolution 
— the  power  of  abstract  reasoning  and  that  most  abstract  of 
the  emotions,  the  sentiment  of  justice — the  sentiment  which 


342  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

regulates  conduct  irrespective  of  personal  attacliments  and 
the  likes  or  dislikes  felt  for  individuals.' 

After  this  quantitative  mental  distinction,  which  becomes 
incidentally  qualitative  by  telling  most  upon  the  most  recent 
and  most  comjilex  faculties,  there  come  the  qualitative  mental 
distinctions  consequent  on  the  relations  of  men  and  women 
to  their  children  and  to  one  another.  Though  the  parental 
instinct,  which,  considered  in  its  essential  nature,  is  a  love  of 
the  helpless,  is  common  to  the  two ;  yet  it  is  obviouslj^  not 
identical  in  the  two.  That  the  particular  form  of  it  which 
responds  to  infantine  helplessness  is  more  dominant  in  women 
than  in  men,  cannot  be  questioned.  In  man  the  instinct  is 
not  so  habitually  excited  by  the  very  helpless,  but  has  a  more 
genei'alized  relation  to  all  the  relatively-weak  who  are  depen- 
dent upon  him.  Doubtless,  along  with  this  more  specialized 
instinct  in  women,  there  go  special  aptitudes  for  dealing  with 
infantine  life — an  adapted  power  of  intuition  and  a  fit  adjust- 
ment of  behaviour.  That  there  is  here  a  mental  specializa- 
tion, joined  with  the  bodily  specialization,  is  undeniable ;  and 
this  mental  specialization,  tliough  primai'ily  related  to  the 
rearing  of  olTsin'ing,  affects  in  some  degi'ee  the  conduct  at 
large. 

The  remaining  qualitative  distinctions  betw^een  the  minds 
of  men  and  women,  are  those  which  have  grown  out  of  their 
mutual  relation  as  stronger  and  weaker.  If  we  trace  the 
genesis  of  hvnnan  character,  by  considering  the  conditions  of 
existence  through  which  the  Inunan  race  passed  in  early  bar- 
baric times  and  during  civilization,  we  shall  see  that  the 
weaker  sex  has  naturally  acquired  certain  mental  traits  by  its 
dealings  with  the  stronger.  In  the  course  of  the  struggles  for 
existence  among  wild  tribes,  those  tribes  survived  in  which 
the  men  were  not  only  powerful  and  courag(M)us,  but  aggrc>s- 
sive,  unscnii)u](ms,  intensely  egoistic.  Necessarily,  then,  the 
men  of  the  conquering  races  which  gave  origin  to  the  civil- 
ized races,  were  men  in  whom  <lie  l)ru(!il  charat'terisfics  were 
doniinanf  ;  and  ni'cessarily  llu^  women  of  such  races,  having 
to  deal  with  brutal  men,  prospered  in  ])roi)orfion  as  Ihey  pos- 
sessed, or  ;i(i|uirc(l.  lit  adjust ments  of  nature.  ITow  were 
women.  unai)le  i)y  strength  <o  hold  their  own,  otherwise  en- 
abled to  hold  their  own  ?     Several  mental  traits  helped  them 


PREPARATION   IN   PSYCnOLOGY.  343 

to   do   this.  We   may  set  down,  first,  the  ability   to 

please,  and  the  concomitant  love  of  approbation.  Clearly, 
other  thing's  equal,  among  women  living  at  the  mercy  of  men, 
those  who  succeeded  most  in  pleasing  would  be  the  most  likely 
to  survive  and  leave  posterity.  And  (recognizing  the  pre- 
dominant descent  of  qualities  on  the  same  side)  this,  acting  on 
successive  generations,  tended  to  establish,  as  a  feminine  trait, 
a  special  solicitude  to  be  approved,  and  an  aptitude  of  manner 
to  this  end.  Similarly,  the  wives  of  merciless  savages 

must,  other  things  equal,  have  prospered  in  proportion  to 
their  powers  of  disguising  their  feelings.  Women  who  be- 
trayed tlie  state  of  antagonism  j)roduced  in  them  by  ill-treat- 
ment, would  be  less  likely  to  survive  and  leave  offspring  than 
those  who  concealed  their  antagonism  ;  and  hence,  by  inherit- 
ance and  selection,  a  growth  of  this  trait  proportionate  to  the 
requirement.  In  some  cases,  again,  the  arts  of  i)ersua- 

sion  enabled  women  to  protect  themselves,  and  by  implication 
their  offspring,  where,  in  the  absence  of  such  arts,  they  would 
have  disappeared  early,  or  would  have  reared  fewer  chil- 
dren. One  further  ability  may  be  named  as  likely  to 
be  cultivated  and  established — the  ability  to  distinguish 
quickly  the  passing  feelings  of  those  around.  In  barbarous 
times  a  woman  who  could  from  a  movement,  tone  of  voice,  or 
expression  of  face,  instantly  detect  in  her  savage  husband  the 
passion  that  was  rising,  would  be  likely  to  escape  dangers  run 
into  by  a  woman  less  skilled  in  interpreting  the  natural  lan- 
guage of  feeling.  Hence,  from  the  perpetual  exercise  of  this 
power,  and  the  survival  of  those  having  most  of  it.  we  may 
infer  its  establishment  as  a  feminine  faculty.  Ordinarily,  this 
feminine  faculty,  showing  itself  in  an  aptitude  for  guessing 
the  state  of  mind  through  the  external  signs,  end  simply  in 
intuitions  formed  without  assignable  reasons;  but  when,  as 
happens  in  rare  cases,  there  is  joined  with  it  skill  in  psycho- 
logical analysis,  there  results  an  extremely-remarkable  ability 
to  interpret  the  mental  states  of  others.  Of  this  ability  we  have 
a  living  example  never  hitherto  paralleled  among  women,  and 
in  but  few,  if  any,  cases  exceeded  among  men.  Of 
covirse,  it  is  not  asserted  that  the  specialities  of  mind  here  de- 
scribed as  having  been  developed  in  women  by  tlie  necessities 
of  defence  in  their  dcjilings  with  men,  are  peculiar  to  them  : 


344  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

in  men  also  they  have  been  developed  as  aids  to  defence  in 
their  dealings  with  one  another.  But  the  difFerence  is  that 
whereas,  in  their  dealings  with  one  another,  men  depended  on 
these  aids  only  in  some  measure,  women  in  their  dealings 
with  men  depended  upon  them  almost  wholly — within  the 
domestic  circle  as  well  as  without  it.  Hence,  in  virtue  of  that 
partial  limitation  of  heredity  by  sex,  which  many  facts  through- 
out Nature  shows  us,  they  have  come  to  be  more  marked  in 
women  than  in  men.'' 

One  further  distinctive  mental  trait  in  women,  springs  out 
of  the  relation  of  the  sexes  as  adjusted  to  the  welfare  of  the 
race.  I  refer  to  the  effect  which  the  manifestation  of  power 
of  every  kind  in  men,  has  in  determining  the  attachments  of 
women.  That  this  is  a  trait  inevitably  produced,  will  be 
manifest  on  asking  what  would  have  happened  if  women  had 
by  preference  attached  tliemselves  to  the  weaker  men.  If  the 
weaker  men  had  habitually  left  posterity  wlien  the  stronger 
did  not,  a  progressive  deterioration  of  the  race  would  have 
resulted.  Clearly,  therefore,  it  has  happened  (at  least,  since 
the  cessation  of  marriage  by  capture  or  by  purchase  has 
allowed  feminine  choice  to  play  an  important  part),  that, 
among  women  unlike  in  their  tastes,  those  who  were  fasci- 
nated by  power,  bodily  or  mental,  and  who  married  men  able 
to  protect  them  and  their  children,  were  more  likely  to  sur- 
vive in  posterity  than  women  to  whom  weaker  men  were 
pleasing,  and  whose  children  were  both  less  efficiently  guarded 
and  less  capable  of  self-preservation  if  they  reached  maturity. 
To  tliis  admiration  for  powei*,  caused  thus  inevitably,  is  ascri- 
bable  the  fact  sometimes  conmientcd  upon  as  strange,  that 
women  will  continue  attached  to  men  who  use  them  ill, 
but  whose  brutality  goes  along  with  power,  more  than 
they  will  continue  attached  to  weaker  men  who  use  them 
well.  Witli  tliis  admiration  of  ])()\v('r.  ]iriinarily  hav- 

ing tliis  function,  tlicre  goes  tlie  admiration  of  power  in  gen- 
eral ;  wl)ich  is  more  marked  in  wouumi  than  in  nun.  and 
shows  itself  lioHi  llieologically  and  polilically.  That  the  emo- 
tion of  awe  :n-oiised  by  conteiuplating  wliateyer  suggest.s 
transeendcMit  foi-ce  or  cai)acity,  wliieh  eonsfitutes  religious 
feeling,  is  strongest  in  women,  is  pr()V(>d  in  many  ways.  Wo 
re;i(l  that  among  liie  Greeks  tlie  women  were  more  religiously 


PREPARATION   IN  PSYCHOLOGY.  345 

excitable  than  the  men.  Sir  Rutherford  Alcock  tells  us  of 
the  Japanese  that  "in  the  temples  it  is  very  rare  to  see  any 
congregation  except  women  and  children ;  the  men,  at  any 
time,  are  very  few,  and  those  generally  of  the  lower  classes." 
Of  the  pilgrims  to  the  temple  of  Juggernaut,  it  is  stated  that 
"at  least  hve-sixths,  and  often  nine-tenths,  of  thera  are  fe- 
males." And  we  are  also  told  of  the  Sikhs,  that  the  women 
believe  in  more  gods  than  the  men  do.  Which  facts,  coming' 
from  diflFerent  races  and  times,  sufficiently  show  us  that  the 
like  fact,  familiar  to  us  in  Roman  Catholic  countries  and  to 
some  extent  at  home,  is  not,  as  many  think,  due  to  the  edu- 
cation of  women,  but  has  a  deeper  cause  in  natural  character. 
And  to  this  same  cause  is  in  like  manner  to  be  ascribed  the 
greater  respect  felt  by  women  for  all  embodiments  and  sym- 
bols of  authority,  g'overnmental  and  social. 

Thus  the  d  priori  inference,  that  fitness  for  their  respec- 
tive parental  functions  implies  mental  differences  between 
the  sexes,  as  it  implies  bodily  differences,  is  justified ;  as  is 
also  the  kindi'ed  inference  that  secondary  differences  are 
necessitated  by  their  relations  to  one  another.  Those  unlike- 
nesses  of  mind  between  men  and  women,  which,  under  the 
conditions,  were  to  be  expected,  are  the  unlikenesses  we  actu- 
ally find.  That  they  are  fixed  in  degree,  by  no  means  follows  : 
indeed,  the  contrary  follows.  Determined  as  we  see  they  some 
of  them  are  by  adaptation  of  primitive  women's  natures  to  the 
natures  of  primitive  men,  it  is  inferable  that  as  civilization  re- 
adjusts men's  natures  to  higher  social  requirements,  there 
goes  on  a  corresponding  re-adjustment  between  the  natures  of 
men  and  women,  tending  in  sundry  respects  to  diminish  their 
differences.  Especially  may  we  anticipate  that  those  mental 
peculiarities  developed  in  women  as  aids  to  defence  against 
men  in  barbarous  times,  will  diminish.  It  is  probable,  too, 
that  though  all  kinds  of  power  will  continue  to  be  attractive 
to  them,  the  attractiveness  of  physical  strength  and  the 
mental  attributes  that  commonly  go  along  with  it.  will  de- 
cline ;  while  the  attributes  which  conduce  to  social  influence 
will  become  more  attractive.  Further,  it  is  to  be  anticipated 
that  the  higher  culture  of  women,  carried  on  within  such 
limits  as  shall  not  unduly  tax  the  j^hyHiquo.  (and  here,  by 
higher  culture,  I  do  not  mean  mere  language-learning  and  an 


346  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

extension  of  the  detestable  cramming-system  at  present  in 
use),  will  in  other  ways  reduce  the  contrast.  Slowly  leading 
to  the  result  everywhere  seen  throughout  the  organic  world, 
of  a  self -preserving  power  inversely  proportionate  to  the 
race-preserving  power,  it  will  entail  a  less-early  arrest  of  in- 
dividual evolution,  and  a  diminution  of  those  mental  differ- 
ences between  men  and  women,  which  the  early  arrest  pro- 
duces. 

Admitting  such  to  be  changes  which  the  future  will  prob- 
ably see  wTought  out,  we  have  meanwhile  to  bear  in  mind 
these  traits  of  intellect  and  feeling  which  distinguish  women, 
and  to  take  note  of  them  as  factors  in  social  phenomena — 
much  more  important  factors  than  we  commonly  suppose. 
Considering  them  in  the  above  order,  we  may  note,  first,  that 
the  love  of  the  helpless,  which  in  her  maternal  capacity  wom- 
an displays  in  a  more  special  form  than  man,  inevitably 
affects  all  her  thoughts  and  sentiments  ;  and  this  being  joined 
in  her  with  a  less-developed  sentiment  of  abstract  justice,  she 
responds  more  readily  when  appeals  to  pity  are  made,  than 
when  appeals  are  made  to  equity.  In  foregoing  chapters  we 
have  seen  how  much  our  social  policy  disregards  the  claims 
of  individuals  to  whatever  then'  eiTorts  purchase,  so  long  as 
no  obvious  misery  is  brought  on  them  by  tlie  disregard  ;  but 
when  individuals  suffer  in  ways  conspicuous  enough  to  excite 
commiseration,  they  get  aid,  and  often  as  nmch  aid  if  their 
sufferings  ai'e  caused  by  themselves  as  if  they  are  caused  by 
others— often  greater  aid,  indeed.  This  social  policy,  to  which 
men  tend  in  an  injurious  degree,  women  tend  to  still  more. 
The  maternal  instinct  d(^lights  in  yielding  bonelits  apart  from 
desei'ts;  and  being  partially  excited  by  whatever  shows  a 
feebleness  that  appeals  for  help  (supposing  antagonism  has 
not  been  aroused),  carries  into  social  action  this  preference  of 
generosity  to  justice,  even  more  than  men  do.  A  furtlier 
tciidciicy  having  the  same  general  direction,  results  fi-oiu  the 
aptitude  whicli  tlie  feminine  intellect  has  to  dwell  on  the  con- 
crete and  jjroximatc  rather  than  on  the  al)stract  and  remote. 
The  representative  faculty  in  women  d(>als  (piickly  and  ch-arly 
with  tlie  pei-sonal,  tiie  special,  and  the  immediate;  but  less 
readily  gras))s  the  general  and  the  imi)ersonal.  A  vivid  im- 
agination of  siini)le  direct  consequences  mostly  shuts  out  from 


PREPARATION  IN  PSYCHOLOGY.  347 

her  mind  the  imag-ination  of  consequences  that  are  complex 
and  indirect.  The  respective  behavioui's  of  mothers  and  fathers 
to  chikh-en,  sufficiently  exemplify  this  difference,  mothers 
thinking  chiefly  of  present  effects  on  the  conduct  of  children, 
and  regarding  less  the  distant  effects  on  their  characters  ;  while 
fathers  often  repress  the  promptings  of  their  symjiatliies  with 
a  view  to  ultimate  bejiefits.  And  this  difference  between  their 
ways  of  estimating  consequences,  affecting  their  judgments  on 
social  affaix'S  as  on  domestic  affairs,  makes  women  err  still 
more  than  men  do  in  seeking  what  seems  an  immediate  pub- 
lic good  without  thought  of  distant  public  evils.  Once  more, 
we  have  in  women  the  predominant  awe  of  power  and  au- 
thority, swaying  their  ideas  and  sentiments  about  all  institu- 
tions. This  tends  towards  the  strengthening  of  governments, 
political  and  ecclesiastical.  Faith  in  Avhatever  presents  itself 
with  imposing  accompaniments,  is,  for  the  reason  above  as- 
signed, especially  strong  in  women.  Doubt,  or  criticism,  or 
calling-in-question  of  things  that  are  established,  is  rai-e  among 
them.  Hence  in  public  affairs  their  influence  goes  towards 
the  maintenance  of  controlling  agencies,  and  does  not  resist 
the  extension  of  such  agencies :  rather,  in  pursuit  of  immedi- 
ate promised  benefits,  it  urges  on  that  extension ;  since  the 
concrete  good  in  view  excludes  from  their  thoughts  the  re- 
mote evils  of  multiplied  restraints.  Reverencing  power  more 
than  men  do,  women,  by  implication,  respect  freedom  less — • 
freedom,  that  is,  not  of  the  nominal  kind,  but  of  that  real  kind 
which  consists  in  the  ability  of  each  to  carry  on  his  own  life 
without  hindrance  from  others,  so  long  as  he  does  not  hinder 
them. 

As  factors  in  social  phenomena,  these  distinctive  mental 
traits  of  women  have  ever  to  be  remembered.  Women  have 
in  all  times  played  a  part,  and,  in  modern  days,  a  very  nota- 
ble part,  in  determining  social  arrangements.  They  act  both 
directly  and  indirectly.  Directly,  they  take  a  large,  if  not  the 
larger,  share  in  that  ceremonial  government  which  supple- 
ments the  political  and  ecclesiastical  governments ;  and  as 
supporters  of  these  other  governments,  especially  the  ecclesi- 
astical, their  direct  aid  is  by  no  means  unimportant.  Indi- 
rectly, they  act  by  modifying  the  opinions  and  sentiments  of 
men — first,  in  education,  when  the  expression  of  maternal 


348  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

thoughts  and  feelings  afFects  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of 
boys,  and  afterwards  in  domestic  and  social  intercourse,  dur- 
ing which  the  feminine  sentiments  sway  men's  public  acts, 
both  consciously  and  unconsciously.  Whether  it  is  desirable 
that  the  shai*e  already  taken  by  women  in  determining  social 
arrangements  and  actions  should  be  increased,  is  a  question 
we  will  leave  undiscussed.  Hei'C  I  am  concerned  merely  to 
point  out  that,  in  the  course  of  a  psychological  prei)aration  for 
the  study  of  Sociology,  we  must  inckide  the  comparative  psy- 
chology of  the  sexes ;  so  that  if  any  change  is  made,  we  may 
make  it  knowing  what  we  are  doing. 

Assent  to  the  general  proposition  set  forth  in  this  chapter, 
does  not  depend  on  assent  to  the  particular  propositions  un- 
folded in  illustrating  it.  Those  who,  while  pressing  forward 
education,  are  so  certain  they  know  what  good  education  is, 
that,  in  an  essentially-Papal  spirit,  they  wish  to  force  chil- 
dren through  their  existing  school-courses,  under  jjenalty  on 
parents  who  resist,  w^ill  not  have  their  views  modified  by 
what  has  been  said,  I  do  not  look,  either,  for  any  appreciable 
effect  on  those  who  shut  out  from  consideration  the  reactive 
influence  on  moral  nature,  entailed  by  the  action  of  a  system 
of  intellectual  culture  which  habituates  parents  to  make  the 
jHiblic  responsible  for  their  children's  minds.  Nor  do  I  think 
it  likely  that  many  of  those  who  wish  to  change  funda- 
mentally the  political  status  of  women,  will  be  iniluenced  by 
the  considerations  above  set  forth  on  the  comparative  psy^ 
chology  of  the  sexes.  But  without  acceptance  of  these  illus- 
trative conclusions,  there  may  be  acce])tance  of  the  general 
conclusion,  that  psycliological  trullis  underlie  sociological 
truths,  and  must  tlierefore  be  sought  by  the  sociologist.  For 
Avhether  discipline  of  the  intellect  docs  or  does  not  change  the 
emotions;  wlicthcr  nalioiial  charactor  is  or  is  not  progres- 
sively adapted  to  social  conditions;  whether  the  minds  of 
men  and  women  are  or  are  not  alike;  are  obviously  p.sycho- 
logical  questions ;  and  citlnT  jmswer  to  ;iiiv  one  of  llicm,  im- 
plies a  i)sycliolo<j:ical  conchision.  Hence,  whoever  on  any  of 
these  questions  has  a  conviction  lo  which  h(>  would  give  legi.s- 
lativ(^  expression,  is  basing  a  sctciolo^^-ical  belief  ujxtn  a  psy- 
chological belief;  and  cannot  deny  that  the  one  is  true  only 


PREPARATION  IN  PSYCHOLOGY.  349 

if  the  other  is  true.  Having  adiiiittecl  this,  he  must  admit 
that  without  preparation  in  Mental  Science  there  can  be  no 
Social  Science.  For,  otherwise,  he  must  assert  that  the  ran- 
domly-made and  carelessly-grouped  observations  on  Mind, 
common  to  all  people,  are  better  as  guides  than  observations 
cautiously  collected,  critically  examined,  and  generalized  in  a 
systematic  way. 

No  one,  indeed,  who  is  once  led  to  dwell  on  the  matter,  can 
fail  to  see  how  absurd  is  the  supposition  that  there  can  be  a 
rational  interpretation  of  men's  combined  actions,  without  a 
previous  i-ational  interpretation  of  those  thoughts  and  feelings 
by  which  their  individual  actions  are  prompted.  Nothing 
comes  out  of  a  society  but  what  originates  in  the  motive  of  an 
individual,  or  in  the  united  similar  motives  of  many  individ- 
uals, or  in  the  conflict  of  the  united  similar  motives  of  some 
having  certain  interests,  with  the  diverse  motives  of  others 
whose  interests  are  ditl'erent.  Always  the  power  which  initi- 
ates a  change  is  feeling,  separate  or  aggregated,  guided  to  its 
ends  by  intellect ;  and  not  even  an  approach  to  an  explana- 
tion of  social  phenomena  can  be  made,  without  the  thoughts 
and  sentiments  of  citizens  being  recognized  as  factors.  How, 
then,  can  there  be  a  true  account  of  social  actions  without  a 
true  account  of  these  thoughts  and  sentiments  ?  Manifestly, 
those  w^ho  ignore  Psychology  as  a  preparation  for  Sociology, 
can  defend  their  position  only  by  proving  that  while  other 
groups  of  phenomena  require  special  study,  the  phenomena  of 
Mind,  in  all  their  variety  and  intricacy,  are  best  understood 
without  special  study  ;  and  that  knowledge  of  human  nature 
gained  haphazard,  becomes  obscure  and  misleading  in  propor- 
tion as  there  is  added  to  it  knowledge  deliberately  sought  and 
carefully  put  together. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

CONCLUSION. 

Of  readers  who  have  .accompanied  me  thus  far,  probably 
some  think  that  the  contents  of  the  work  go  beyond  the  limits 
implied  by  its  title.  Under  the  head,  Study  of  Sociology,  so 
many  sociological  questions  have  been  incidentally  discussed, 
that  the  science  itself  has  been  in  a  measure  dealt  with  while 
dealing  with  the  study  of  it.  Admitting  this  criticism,  my 
excuse  must  be  that  the  fault,  if  it  is  one,  has  been  scarcely 
avoidable.  Nothing  to  much  purpose  can  be  said  about  the 
study  of  any  science  without  saying  a  good  deal  about  the 
general  and  special  truths  it  includes,  or  what  the  expositor 
holds  to  be  truths.  To  write  an  essay  on  the  study  of  Astron- 
omy in  which  there  should  be  no  direct  or  implied  conviction 
respecting  the  Copcrnican  theory  of  the  Soku*  System,  nor  any 
such  recognition  of  the  Law  of  Gravitation  as  involved  ac- 
ceptance or  rejection  of  it,  would  be  a  task  difficult  to  execute, 
and.  when  executed,  probably  of  little  value.  Similarly  with 
Sociology — it  is  ncrxt  to  imp(jssible  for  a  writer  who  points  out 
the  way  towards  its  truths,  to  exclude  all  tacit  or  avowed 
expressions  of  opinion  about  those  truths ;  and,  were  it  possi- 
ble to  exclude  such  expressions  of  opinion,  it  would  be  at 
the  cost  of  those  illustrations  needed  to  make  his  exposilion 
etfective. 

Such  must  be,  in  i^art,  my  defence  for  liaving  set  down 
many  thoughts  which  th'-  lilh'  of  tliis  woi'k  does  not  cover. 
Especially  have  I  found  myself  obliged  tlius  in  transgress, 
by  rei)resenting  the  study  of  Sociology  as  tlie  study  of  Evolu- 
ti(m  in  its  most  com])lex  form.  It  is  clear  that  to  one  who 
considers  the  facts  societies  exhiliit  ns  liaving  had  their  origin 
in  sii])e,rnatural   interpositions,  or  in   (he  wills  of  individual 

TOO 


CONCLUSION.  351 

rulinj?  men,  the  study  of  these  facts  will  have  an  aspect 
wholly  unlike  that  whicli  it  has  to  one  who  contemplates 
them  as  generated  hy  processes  of  growth  and  development 
continuing  through  centuries.  Ignoring,  as  the  first  view 
tacitly  does,  that  conformity  to  law,  in  the  scientific  sense  of 
the  word,  which  the  second  view  tacitly  asserts,  there  can  be 
but  little  connnunity  between  the  methods  of  inquiry  proper 
to  them  respectively.  Continuous  causation,  which  in  the 
one  case  there  is  little  or  no  tendency  to  trace,  becomes,  in  the 
other  case,  the  chief  object  of  attention  ;  whence  it  follov.-s 
that  there  must  be  formed  wholly-different  ideas  of  the  ap- 
propriate modes  of  investigation.  A  foregone  conclusion 
respecting  the  nature  of  social  phenomena,  is  thus  inevitably 
implied  in  any  suggestions  for  the  study  of  them. 

While,  however,  it  must  be  admitted  that  throughout  this 
work  there  runs  the  assumption  that  the  facts,  simultaneous 
and  successive,  which  societies  present,  have  a  genesis  no  less 
natural  than  the  genesis  of  facts  of  all  other  classes  ;  it  is  not 
admitted  that  this  assumption  was  made  unawares,  or  without 
warrant.  At  the  outset,  the  grounds  for  it  were  examined. 
The  notion,  widely  accepted  in  name  though  not  consistently 
acted  upon,  that  social  phenomena  differ  from  phenomena  of 
most  other  kinds  as  being  under  special  providence,  we  found 
to  be  entirely  discredited  by  its  expositors  ;  noi-,  when  closely 
looked  into,  did  the  great-man-theory  of  social  affairs  prove 
to  be  more  tenable.  Besides  finding  that  both  these  views, 
rooted  as  they  are  in  the  ways  of  thinking  natural  to  primi- 
tive men,  would  not  bear  criticism  ;  we  found  that  even  their 
defenders  continually  betrayed  their  beliefs  in  the  production 
of  social  changes  by  natural  causes — tacitly  admitted  that 
after  certain  antecedents  certain  consequents  are  to  be  ex- 
pected— tacitly  admitted,  therefore,  tliat  some  prevision  is 
possible,  and  therefore  some  subject-matter  for  Science. 
From  these  negative  justifications  for  the  belief  that  So- 
ciology is  a  science,  we  turned  to  the  positive  justifications. 
We  found  that  every  aggregate  of  units  of  any  order,  has 
certain  traits  necessarily  determined  by  the  properties  of  its 
units.  Hence  it  was  inferable,  d  priori,  that,  given  the 
natures  of  the  men  who  are  their  units,  and  certain  charac- 
ters in  the  societies  formed  are  pre-determincd— other  charac- 
24 


352  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

ters  being  determined  by  the  co-operation  of  surrounding 
conditions.  The  current  assertion  that  Sociology  is  not 
possible,  implies  a  misconception  of  its  nature.  Using  the 
analogy  supplied  by  a  human  life,  we  saw  that  just  as  bodilj' 
development  and  structure  and  function,  furnish  subject- 
matter  for  biological  science,  though  the  events  set  forth  by 
the  biographer  go  beyond  its  range ;  so,  social  growth,  and  the 
rise  of  structures  and  functions  accompanying  it,  furnish 
subject-matter  for  a  Science  of  Society,  though  the  facts  with 
which  historians  fill  their  pages  mostly  yield  no  material  for 
Science.  Thixs  conceiving  the  scope  of  the  science,  we  saw, 
on  comparing  rudimentary  societies  with  one  another  and 
with  societies  in  different  stages  of  pi'ogress,  that  they  do 
present  certain  common  traits  of  structure  and  of  function, 
as  well  as  certain  common  traits  of  development.  Further 
comparisons  similarly  made,  opened  large  questions,  such  as 
that  of  the  relation  between  social  growth  and  organization, 
which  form  parts  of  this  same  science  ; — questions  of  ti'an- 
scendent  importance  compared  with  those  occupying  the 
minds  of  politicians  and  writers  of  history 

The  difficulties  of  the  Social  Science  next  drew  our  atten- 
tion. We  saw  that  in  this  case,  though  in  no  other  case,  the 
facts  to  be  observed  and  generalized  by  the  student,  ai'e  ex- 
hibited by  an  aggregate  of  wliicli  he  forms  a  part.  In  his 
capacity  of  inquirer,  he  sliould  have  no  inclination  towards 
one  or  other  conclusion  respecting  the  phenomena  to  be  gen- 
eralized ;  but  in  liis  capacity  of  citizen,  helped  to  live  by  the 
life  of  Ills  society,  imbedded  in  its  structures,  sharing  in  its 
activities,  breatliing  its  atmospliere  of  thouglit  and  sentiment, 
he  is  partially  coerced  into  such  views  as  favour  harmonious 
co-operation  with  liis  fellow-citizens.  Hence  immense  ob- 
stacles to  the  Social  Science,  unparalleled  by  those  standing 
in  the  way  of  any  other  science. 

From  considci-iiig  thus  generally  these  causes  of  error,  we 
turned  1o  consider  tlu'in  s|K'cially.  Under  tlif  head  of  objec- 
tive dilliculties,  we  glanced  at  those  many  ways  in  wliicli  evi- 
dejice  co!lect<'d  by  tlie  sociological  inquirer  is  vitiated.  That 
extreme  untrustworlliiness  of  witnesses  which  rcsuKs  from 
carelessness,  or   fanaticism,  or   self-interest,  was   illustrated; 


CONCLUSION.  353 

and  we  saw  that,  in  addition  to  the  perversions  of  statement 
hence  arisiiig,  there  are  others  which  arise  from  the  tendency 
there  is  for  some  kinds  of  evidence  to  draw  attention,  wliile 
evidence  of  opposite  kinds,  mucli  larfjer  in  quantity,  draws  no 
attention.  Further,  it  was  sliown  that  the  natui-e  of  socio- 
logical facts,  each  of  which  is  not  observable  in  a  single  object 
or  act,  but  is  reached  only  through  registration  and  compari- 
son of  many  objects  and  acts,  makes  the  perception  of  them 
harder  tlian  that  of  other  facts.  It  was  pointed  out  that  the 
wide  distribution  of  social  phenomena  in  Space,  greatly  liin- 
ders  true  apprehensions  of  them  ;  and  it  was  also  pointed  out 
that  another  impediment,  even  still  greater,  is  consequent  on 
their  distribution  in  Time — a  distribution  such  that  many  of 
the  facts  to  be  dealt  with,  take  centuries  to  unfold,  and  can  bo 
grasped  only  by  combining  in  thought  multitudinous  changes 
that  are  slow,  involved,  and  not  easy  to  trace.  Beyond 

these  difficulties  which  we  grouped  as  distinguishing'  the 
science  itself,  objectively  considered,  we  saw  that  there  are 
other  difficulties,  conveniently  to  be  grouped  as  subjective, 
which  are  also  great.  For  the  interpretation  of  human  con- 
duct as  socially  displayed,  every  one  is  compelled  to  use,  as  a 
key,  his  own  nature — ascribing  to  others  thoughts  and  feelings 
like  his  own ;  and  yet,  while  this  automorphic  interpretation 
is  indispensable,  it  is  necessarily  more  or  less  misleading. 
Very  generally,  too,  a  subjective  difficulty  arises  from  the  lack 
of  intellectual  faculty  complex  enough  to  grasp  these  social 
phenomena,  which  are  so  extremely  involved.  And  again, 
very  few  have  by  culture  gained  that  plasticity  of  faculty 
requisite  for  conceiving  and  accepting  those  immensely-varied 
actualities  which  societies  in  different  times  and  places  dis- 
play, and  those  multitudinous  possibilities  to  be  inferred  from 
them.  Nor,  of  subjective  difficulties,  did  these  exhaust 

the  list.  From  the  emotional,  as  well  as  from  the  intellectual, 
part  of  the  nature,  we  saw  that  there  arise  obstacles.  The 
ways  in  which  beliefs  about  social  affairs  ai'e  perverted  by  in- 
tense fears  and  excited  hopes,  were  pointed  out.  We  noted 
the  feeling  of  impatience,  as  another  common  cause  of  mis- 
judgment.  A  contrast  was  drawn  showing,  too,  wliat  per- 
verse estimates  of  iDublic  events  men  are  led  to  make  by  their 
syinpathios  and  antipathies— liow,  where  their  hate  has  been 


351  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

aroused,  they  utter  unqualified  condemnations  of  ill-deeds  for 
which  there  was  much  excuse,  while,  if  their  admiration  is 
excited  by  vast  successes,  they  condone  inexcusable  ill-deeds 
immeasurably  greater  in  amount.  And  we  also  saw  that 
among  the  distoi'tions  of  judgment  caused  by  the  emotions, 
have  to  be  included  those  immense  ones  generated  by  the 
sentiment  of  loyalty  to  a  personal  ruler,  or  to  a  ruling  power 
otherwise  embodied. 

These  distortions  of  judgment  caused  by  the  emotions,  thus 
indicated  generally,  we  went  on  to  consider  specially — treat- 
ing of  them  as  different  forms  of  bias.  Though,  during  edu- 
cation, understood  in  a  wide  sense,  many  kinds  of  bias  are 
commenced  or  given,  there  is  one  which  our  educational  sys- 
tem makes  especially  strong — the  double  bias  in  favour  of  the 
religions  of  enmity  and  of  amity.  Needful  as  we  found  both 
of  these  to  be,  we  perceived  that  among  the  beliefs  about  social 
affairs,  prompted  now  by  the  one  and  now  by  the  other,  thei*e 
are  glaring  incongruities  ;  and  that  scientific  conceptions  can  be 
formed  only  when  there  is  a  compromise  between  the  dictates 
of  pure  egoism  and  the  dictates  of  pure  altruism,  for  which 
they  respectively  stand.  We  observed,  next,  the  Avarj)- 

iug  of  opinion  which  the  bias  of  patriotism  causes.  Recogniz- 
ing the  truth  that  the  preservation  of  a  society  is  made  possi- 
ble only  by  a  due  amount  of  patriotic  feeling  in  citizens,  we 
saw  that  this  feeling  inevitably  disturbs  the  judgment  when 
coni]iarisoiis  between  societies  are  made,  and  that  tlie  data  re- 
quired for  Social  Science  are  thus  vitiated  ;  and  we  saw  that 
the  effort  to  escape  this  bias,  leading  as  it  does  to  an  o]ipo- 
sitc  bias,  is  apt  to  vitiate  the  data  in  another  way.  Wliilo 

findins"  the  class-bias  to  be  no  less  essential,  we  found  that  it 
no  le.ss  inevitably  cau.ses  one-sidedness  in  the  conceptions  of 
social  affairs.  Noting  how  the  various  sub-classes  have  their 
specialities  of  prejudice  corresponding  to  their  class-interests, 
we  noted,  at  greater  length,  how  the  more  general  ])rejudices  of 
the  larger  and  more  widely-distinguished  classes,  jnvvcnt  tliem 
from  forming  balanced  judgmonls.  That  in   ])olitics  the 

bias  of  ])arty  interferes  willi  ihoao.  calm  exnniiniitions  by 
which  alone  tlie  conclusions  of  Social  Science  can  be  reached, 
scarcely  needed  ])ointing  out.  We  observed,  liowevr,  that 
beyond  fb"  i)'>iilic:il  bias  under  its  parly-l'onn,  there  is  u  more 


CONCLUSION.  355 

general  political  bias — the  bias  towards  an  exclusively-political 
view  of  social  affairs,  and  a  corresponding  faith  in  political 
instrumentalities.  As  affecting  tlie  study  of  Social  Science, 
this  bias  was  shown  to  be  detrimental  as  directing  the  atten- 
tion too  much  to  the  phenomena  of  social  regulation,  and  ex- 
cluding from  thought  the  activities  regulated,  constituting  an 
aggregate  of  phenomena  far  more  important.  Lastly, 

we  came  to  the  theological  bias,  which,  under  its  general  form 
and  under  its  special  forms,  disturbs  in  various  ways  our 
judgments  on  social  questions.  Obedience  to  a  supposed 
divine  command,  being  its  standard  of  rectitude,  it  does  not 
ask  concerning  any  social  arrangement  whetber  it  conduces 
to  social  welfare,  so  much  as  whether  it  conforms  to  the 
creed  locally  established.  Hence,  in  each  place  and  time, 
those  conceptions  about  public  affairs  which  the  theological 
bias  fosters,  tend  to  diverge  from  the  truth  in  so  far  as  the 
creed  then  and  there  accepted  diverges  from  the  truth.  And 
besides  the  positive  evil  thus  produced,  there  is  a  negative 
evil,  due  to  discouragement  of  the  habit  of  estimating  actions 
by  the  results  they  eventually  cause — a  habit  which  the  study 
of  Social  Science  demands. 

Having  thus  contemplated,  in  general  and  in  detail,  the 
difficulties  of  the  Social  Science,  we  turned  oiu"  attention  to  the 
X)reliminary  discii^line  requii^ed.  Of  the  conclusions  reached 
so  recently,  the  reader  scarcely  needs  reminding.  Study  of 
the  sciences  in  general  having  been  pointed  out  as  tlie  i^roper 
means  of  generating  fit  habits  of  thought,  it  was  shown  that 
the  sciences  especially  to  be  attended  to  are  those  treating  of 
Life  and  of  Mind.  There  can  be  no  understanding  of  social 
actions  without  some  knowledge  of  human  nature  ;  there  can 
be  no  deep  knowledge  of  human  nature  without  some  knowl- 
edge of  the  laws  of  Mind ;  there  can  be  no  adequate  knowledge 
of  the  laws  of  Mind  without  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  Life. 
And  that  knowledge  of  the  Laws  of  Life,  as  exhibited  in  Man, 
may  be  properly  grasped,  attention  must  be  given  to  the  hnvs 
of  Life  in  general. 

What  is  to  be  hoped  from  such  a  presentation  of  difficulties 
and  such  a  programme  of  preparatory  studies  ?  Who,  in 
drawing  his  conclusions  about  public  policies,  will  be  made  to 


356  THE  STUDY   OF   SOCIOLOGY. 

hesitate  by  remembering'  the  many  obstacles  that  stand  in  the 
way  of  right  judgments  ?  Who  will  think  it  needful  to  fit 
himself  by  inquiries  so  various  and  so  extensive  ?  Who,  in 
short,  will  be  led  to  doubt  any  of  the  inferences  he  has  drawn 
or  be  induced  to  pause  before  he  draws  others,  by  conscious- 
ness of  these  many  liabilities  to  error  arising  from  want  of 
knowledge,  want  of  discipline,  and  want  of  duly-balanced 
sentiments  ? 

To  these  questions  there  can  be  but  the  obvious  reply — a 
reply  which  the  foregoing  chapters  themselves  involve — that 
very  little  is  to  be  expected.  The  implication  throughout  the 
argument  has  been  that  for  every  society,  and  for  each  stage  in 
its  evolution,  there  is  an  approjjriate  mode  of  feeling  and 
thinking;  and  that  no  mode  of  feeling  and  thinking  not 
adapted  to  its  degree  of  evolution,  and  to  its  surroundings,  can 
be  permanently  established.  Though  not  exactly,  still  approxi- 
mately, the  average  opinion  in  any  age  and  country,  is  a  func- 
tion of  the  social  structure  in  that  age  and  country.  There 
may  be,  as  we  see  during  times  of  revolution,  a  considerable 
incongruity  between  the  ideas  that  become  current  and  the 
social  arrangements  which  exist,  and  are,  in  g-reat  measure, 
appropriate  ;  thougli  even  then  the  incongruity  does  but  mark 
the  need  for  a  re-adjustment  of  institutions  to  character. 
While,  however,  those  successive  compromises  which,  during 
social  evolution,  have  to  be  made  between  the  changed  natures 
of  citizens  and  the  institutions  evolved  by  ancestral  citizeiis,  im- 
j)ly  disagreements,  yet  these  are  but  partial  and  temporary — in 
those  societies,  at  least,  which  are  developing  and  not  in  course 
of  dissolution.  For  a  society  to  hold  together,  the  institutions 
tliat  are  needed  and  the  conceptions  that  are  generally  current, 
must  be  in  tolerable  harmony.  Hence,  it  is  not  to  be  expected 
that  modes  of  thinking  on  social  affairs,  are  to  be  in  any  con- 
siderable degree  changed  by  whatever  may  be  said  respecting 
the  Social  Science,  its  dilliculti(>s,  and  1here(}uired  ])repara.tions 
for  studying  it. 

Th<^  (>u]y  rea.sonable  liope  is,  th;it  liere  and  llifrc  on(^  may 
1)('  led,  in  calmci-  iiionKiils,  to  remember  how  largely  his  be- 
liefs about  i)ub]ic  luiitlcrs  have  iiccu  made  for  him  by  circum- 
stances, iiiul  how  ])r(>l>;il)l('  it  istliat  lliey  ar(>  eitluM*  untrue  or 
but  inirtially  true.     ^\'lH•n    lir  rcllects  on  the  tloubt fulness  of 


CONCLUSION.  357 

the  evidence  which  he  generalizes,  collected  hap-hazard  from 
a  narrow  area — when  he  counts  up  the  perverting'  sentiments 
fostered  in  him  by  education,  country,  class,  party,  creed — 
when,  observing  those  around,  he  sees  that  from  other  evi- 
dence selected  to  gratify  sentiments  partially  unlike  his  own, 
there  result  unlike  views ;  he  may  occasionally  recollect  how 
largely  mere  accidents  have  determined  his  convictions.  Rec- 
ollecting this,  he  may  be  induced  to  hold  these  convictions 
not  quite  so  strongly  ;  may  see  the  need  for  criticism  of  them 
with  a  view  to  re\'ision  ;  and,  above  all,  may  be  somewhat  less 
eager  to  act  in  pursuance  of  them. 

While  the  few  to  whom  a  Social  Science  is  conceivable, 
may  in  some  degree  be  thus  influenced  by  what  is  said  con- 
cerning the  study  of  it,  there  can,  of  course,  be  no  effect  on 
the  many  to  whom  such  a  science  seems  an  absurdity,  or  an 
impiety,  or  both.  The  feeling  usually  excited  by  the  proposal 
to  deal  scientifically  with  these  most-complex  phenomena,  is 
like  that  which  was  excited  in  ancient  times  by  the  proposal 
to  deal  scientifically  with  phenomena  of  simpler  kinds.  As 
Mr.  Grote  writes  of  Socrates — 

"  Physics  and  astronomy,  in  his  opinion,  belonged  to  the  divine 
class  of  phasnomena,  in  which  human  research  was  insane,  fruitless, 
and  impious." ' 

And  as  he  elsewhere  writes  respecting'  the  attitude  of  the 
Greek  mind  in  general : — 

"In  his  [the  early  Greek's]  view,  the  description  of  the  sun,  as 
given  in  a  modern  astronomical  treatise,  would  have  appeared  not 
merely  absurd,  but  repulsive  and  impious:  even  in  later  times,  when 
the  positive  spirit  of  inquiry  had  made  considerable  progress,  Anaxago- 
ras  and  other  astronomers  incurred  the  charge  of  blasphemy  for  dis- 
personifying  Helios,  and  trying  to  assign  invariable  laws  to  the  solar 
phenomena."* 

That  a  likeness  exists  between  the  feeling  then  displayed 
respecting  phenomena  of  inorganic  nature,  and  the  feeling' 
now  displayed  respecting  phenomena  of  Life  and  Society,  is 
manifest.  The  ascription  of  social  actions  and  political  events 
entirely  to  natural  causes,  thus  leaving  out  Providence  as  a 
factor,  seems  to  the  religious  mind  of  our  day,  as  seemed  to 
the  mind  of  the  pious  Greek  the  dispersonification  of  Helios 


358  THE   STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

and  the  exjilanation  of  celestial  motions  otherwise  than  by 
immediate  divine  agency.  As  was  said  by  Mr.  Gladstone,  in 
a  speech  made  shortly  after  the  first  publication  of  the  second 
chapter  of  this  volume — 

"  I  lately  read  a  discussion  on  the  manner  in  which  the  raising  tip 
of  particular  individuals  occasionally  occurs  in  great  crises  of  human 
history,  as  if  some  sacred,  invisible  power  had  raised  them  up  and 
placed  them  in  particular  positions  for  special  purposes.  The  writer 
says  that  they  are  not  uniform,  but  admits  that  they  are  common — so 
common  and  so  remarkable  that  men  would  be  liable  to  term  thera 
providential  in  a  pre-scientific  age.  And  this  was  said  without  the 
smallest  notion  apparently  in  the  writer's  mind  that  he  was  giving 
utterance  to  anything  that  could  startle  or  alarm— it  was  said  as  a 
kind  of  commonplace.  It  would  seem  that  in  his  view  there  was  a 
time  when  mankind,  lost  in  ignorance,  might,  without  forfeiting  en- 
tirely their  title  to  the  name  of  rational  creatures,  believe  in  a  Provi- 
dence, but  that  since  that  period  another  and  greater  power  has  arisen 
tmder  the  name  of  science,  and  this  power  has  gone  to  war  with  Provi- 
dence, and  Providence  is  driven  from  the  field — and  we  have  now  the 
happiness  of  living  in  the  scientific  age,  when  Providence  is  no  longer 
to  be  treated  as  otherwise  than  an  idle  dream." ^ 

Of  the  mental  attitude,  very  general  beyond  the  limits  of 
the  scientific  world,  which  these  utterances  of  Mr.  Gladstone 
exemplify,  he  has  since  given  further  illustration  ;  and,  in  his 
anxiety  to  check  a  movement  he  thinks  mischievous,  has  so 
conspicuously  made  himself  the  exponent  of  the  anti-scientific 
view,  that  we  may  fitly  regard  his  thotights  on  the  matter  as 
typical.  In  an  address  delivered  by  liijii  at  the  Liveri)ool  Col- 
lege, and  since  re-published  with  additions,  lie  says  : — 

"  Upon  the  ground  of  what  is  termed  evolution,  God  is  relieved  of 
the  labour  of  creatif)n  ;  in  the  name  of  unchangoable  laws,  lie  is  dis- 
charged from  governing  the  world." 

This  passage  proves  the  kinship  between  Mr.  Gladstone's  con- 
ception of  things  and  Ihal  entertained  by  the  Greeks,  to  be 
even  closer  than  .'ibove  allogcul ;  for  its  im))]icatioii  is,  not 
simply  that  the  scieiitidc  iiiteri)retati()n  of  vital  and  .social 
])heiiomena  as  conforming  to  fixed  law.s,  is  re])Ugnant  to  liim, 
hut  that  tlic  like  iiitri-pi-ct.itioii  of  inorganic  j)henomena  is  rc- 
])ugiiant.  In  coininoii  with  the  ancient  Greek,  he  regards  as 
iiTcligious,  any  ex))l.'iiialion  of  Nature  wlii<'h  dis])eiises  with 
iiiiDM'diate  divine  superiiit*  iidence.     He  appears  to  overlook 


CONCLUSION.  359 

the  fact  that  the  doctrine  of  gravitation,  with  the  entire  sci- 
ence of  physical  Astronomy,  is  open  to  the  same  charge  as  tliis 
which  he  makes  against  the  doctrine  of  evolution ;  and  he 
seems  not  to  have  remembered  that  tlirougliout  the  past,  each 
further  step  made  by  Science  has  been  denounced  for  reasons 
like  tliose  wliicli  he  assigns.* 

It  is  instructive  to  observe,  however,  that  in  these  prevail- 
ing conceptions  expressed  by  Mr.  Gladstone,  whicli  we  have 
here  to  note  as  excluding  the  conception  of  a  Social  Science, 
there  is  to  be  traced  a  healthful  process  of  compromise  be- 
tween old  and  new.  For  as  in  the  current  conceptions  about 
the  order  of  events  in  the  lives  of  persons,  there  is  a  partner- 
ship, wholly  illogical  though  temi^orarily  convenient,  between 
the  ideas  of  natural  causation  and  of  providential  interference ; 
so,  in  the  current  x^olitical  conceptions,  the  belief  in  divine  in- 
terpositions goes  along  with,  and  by  no  means  excludes,  the 
belief  in  a  natural  production  of  effects  on  society  by  natural 
agencies  set  to  work.  In  relation  to  the  occurrences  of  indi- 
vidual life,  we  displayed  our  national  aptitude  for  thus  enter- 
taining mutually-destructive  ideas,  when  an  unpopular  prince 
suddenly  gained  pot)ularity  by  outliving  certain  abnormal 
changes  in  his  blood,  and  when,  on  the  occasion  of  his  re- 
covery, providential  aid  and  natural  causation  were  unitedly 
recognized  by  a  thanksgiving  to  God  and  a  baronetcy  to  the 
doctor.  And  similarly,  we  see  that  throughout  all  our  public 
actions,  the  tlieory  which  Mr.  Gladstone  represents,  that  great 
men  are  providentially  raised  up  to  do  things  God  has  decided 
upon,  and  that  the  course  of  affairs  is  supernatural  ly  ordered 
thus  or  thus,  does  not  in  the  least  interfere  with  the  passing 
of  measures  calculated  to  achieve  desired  ends  in  ways  classed 
as  natural,  and  nowise  modifies  the  discussion  of  such  meas- 
ures on  their  merits,  as  estimated  in  terms  of  cause  and  conse- 
quence. Wliile  the  prayers  with  which  each  legislative  sitting 
commences,  show  a  nominal  belief  in  an  innnediate  divine 
guidance,  tlie  votes  with  which  the  sitting  ends,  given  in  pur- 
suance of  reasons  which  the  speeches  assign,  show  us  a  real 
belief  that  the  effects  will  be  determined  by  the  agencies  set 
to  work. 

Still,  it  is  clear  that  the  old  conception,  while  it  qualifies 
the  new  but  little  in  the  regulating  of  actioias,  qualifies  it  very 


360  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

much  in  the  forming  of  theories.  There  can  be  no  complete 
acceptance  of  Sociolog}-  as  a  science,  so  long-  as  the  belief  in  a 
social  order  not  conforming  to  natural  la^y,  survives.  Hence, 
as  already  said,  considerations  touching  the  study  of  Sociology, 
not  very  influential  even  over  the  few  who  recognize  a  Social 
Science,  can  have  scarcely  any  eifects  on  the  great  mass  to 
whom  a  Social  Science  is  an  incredibility. 

I  do  not  mean  that  this  prevailing  imperviousness  to  scien- 
tific conceptions  of  social  phenomena  is  to  be  regretted.     As 
implied  in  a  foregoing  paragraph,  it  is  part  of  the  required 
adjustment  between  existing  opinions  and  the  forms  of  social 
life  at  present  requisite.     With  a  given  phase  of  human  char- 
acter there  must,  to  maintain  equilibrium,  go  an  adapted  class 
of  institutions,  and  a  set  of  thoughts  and  sentiments  in  toler- 
able harmony  with  those  institutions.     Hence,  it  is  not  to  be 
wished  that  with  the  average  human  nature  we  now  have, 
there  should  be  a  wide  acceptance  of  views  natural  only  to  a 
more-highly-developed  social  state,  and  to  the  improved  type 
of  citizen  accompanying  such  a  state.     Tlie  desirable  thing  is, 
that  a  growth  of  ideas  and  feelings  tending  to  produce  modifi- 
cation, shall  be  joined  with  a  continuance  of  ideas  and  feelings 
tending  to  preserve  stability.    And  it  is  one  of  our  satisfactoiy 
social  trait.s.  exhibited  in  a  degi-ee  never  before  paralleled, 
that  along  witli  a  mental  progress  which  brings  about  con- 
siderable changes,  there  is  a  devotion  of  thought  and  energy 
to  the  maintenance  of  existing  arrangements,  and  creeds,  and 
sentiments— an  energy  sufficient  even  to  re-invigorate  some 
of  tlie  old  forms  and  beliefs  that  were  decaying.   When,  there- 
fore, a  distinguished  statesman,  anxious  for  liuman  welfare  as 
he  ever  shows  himself  to  be,  and  hokling  tliat  tlie  defence  of 
established  beliefs  must  not  be  left  exclu.sively  to  its  "stand- 
ing army  "  of  "])riests  and  ministers  of  religion,"  undertakes 
to  combat  o])iuions  at  variance  with  a  creed  he  thinks  essen- 
tial; the  fH-currcnce  maybe  takcMi   as  adding  another  to  the 
many  signs  of  a  healthful  condition   of  society.     That  in  our 
day.  one  in  Mr.  Gladstone's  position  should  tliink  as  he  does, 
8e<!ms  to  mo  very  desirable.     That  we  should  have  for  our 
working-king  one  in  whom   a   i)iM-eIy-.scientilic  C()nc(>ption  of 
things  had  become  dominant,  and  who  was  thus  out  of  har- 


CONCLUSION.  361 

mony  with  our  present  social  state,  would  probably  be  detri- 
mental, and  might  be  disastrous. 

For  it  cannot  l)e  too  emphatically  asserted  that  this  policy 
of  compromise,  alike  in  institutions,  in  actions,  and  in  beliefs, 
which  especially  characterizes  English  life,  is  a  policy  essen- 
tial to  a  society  going  through  the  transitions  caused  by  con- 
tinued growth  and  development.  The  illogicalities  and  the 
absurdities  to  be  found  so  abundantly  in  current  opinions  and 
existing  arrangements,  are  those  which  inevitably  arise  in  the 
course  of  perpetual  re-adjustments  to  circumstances  perpetu- 
ally changing.  Ideas  and  institutions  proper  to  a  past  social 
state,  but  incongruous  with  tlie  new  social  state  that  has 
grown  out  of  it,  surviving  into  this  new  social  state  they  have 
made  possible,  and  disappearing  only  as  this  new  social  state 
establishes  its  own  ideas  and  institutions,  are  necessarily,  dur- 
ing their  survival,  in  conflict  with  these  new  ideas  and  insti- 
tutions— necessarily  furnish  elements  of  contradiction  in 
men's  thoughts  and  deeds.  And  yet  as,  for  the  carrying-on 
of  social  life,  the  old  must  continue  so  long  as  the  new  is  not 
ready,  this  perpetual  compromise  is  an  indispensable  accom- 
paniment of  a  normal  development.  Its  essentialness  we  may 
see  on  remembering  that  it  equally  holds  throughout  the  evo- 
lution of  an  individual  organism.  The  structural  and  func- 
tional arrangements  during  growth,  are  never  quite  right : 
always  the  old  adjustment  for  a  smaller  size  is  made  wrong 
by  the  larger  size  it  has  been  instrumental  in  producing — 
always  the  transition-structure  is  a  compromise  between  the 
requirements  of  past  and  future,  fulfilling  in  an  imperfect 
way  the  requirements  of  the  present.  And  this,  which  is 
shown  clearly  enough  where  there  is  simple  growth,  is  shown 
still  more  clearly  where  there  are  metamori^hoses.  A  creature 
which  leads  at  two  periods  of  its  existence  two  different  kinds 
of  life,  and  which,  in  adaptation  to  its  second  period,  has  to 
develop  structures  that  were  not  fitted  for  its  first,  passes 
througli  a  stage  during  vrhich  it  possesses  both  i^artially — 
during  which  the  old  dwindles  while  the  new  grows  :  as  hap- 
pens, for  instance,  in  creatures  that  continue  to  breathe  water 
by  external  branchiae  during  the  time  they  are  developing  the 
lungs  tliat  enable  them  to  breatlie  air.  And  tlnis  it  is  with 
the  alterations  produced  by  growth  in  societies,  as  well  as 


362  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

with  those  metamorphoses  accompanying  change  in  the  mode 
of  life — especially  those  accompanying  change  from  the  pred- 
atory life  to  the  industrial  life.  Here,  too,  there  must  be 
transitional  stages  during  which  incongruous  organizations 
co-exist :  the  first  remaining  indispensable  until  the  second 
has  grown  up  to  its  work.  Just  as  injurious  as  it  would  be  to 
an  amphibian  to  cut  off  its  branchiae  before  its  lungs  were 
well  developed  ;  so  injurious  must  it  be  to  a  society  to  destroy 
its  old  institutions  before  the  new  have  become  well-organized 
enougli  to  take  their  places. 

Non-recognition  of  this  truth  characterizes  too  much  the 
reformers,  political,  i*eligious,  and  social,  of  our  own  time ;  as 
it  has  characterized  those  of  past  times.  On  the  part  of  men 
eager  to  rectify  wrongs  and  expel  errors,  there  is  still,  as  there 
ever  has  been,  so  absorbing  a  consciousness  of  the  evils  caused 
by  old  forms  and  old  ideas,  as  to  permit  no  consciousness  of 
the  benefits  these  old  forms  and  old  ideas  have  yielded.  This 
partiality  of  view  is,  in  a  sense,  necessary.  There  must  be 
division  of  laljour  liere  as  elsewhere :  some  wlio  have  the 
function  of  attacking,  and  who,  that  they  may  attack  eifectu- 
ally,  must  feel  strongly  the  viciousness  of  that  which  they 
attack;  some  wlio  have  the  function  of  defending  and  who, 
that  they  may  be  good  defenders,  must  over-value  the  things 
they  defend.  But  while  tliis  one-sidedness  has  to  be  tolerated, 
as  in  great  measure  unavoidable,  it  is  in  some  respects  to  be 
regretted.  Tliough,  with  grievances  less  serious  and  animos- 
ities less  intense  than  those  which  existed  here  in  the  past, 
and  wliich  exist  still  abroad,  there  go  mitigated  tendencies  to 
a  rasli  destructiveness  on  the  one  side,  and  an  mireasoning 
bigotry  on  the  other;  yet  even  in  our  country  and  age  tliere 
are  dangers  from  the  want  of  a  due  botli-sidedness.  In  the 
speeches  and  writings  of  tliose  wlio  advocate  various  ))olilical 
and  social  changes,  there  is  so  continuous  a  ])resentation  of  in- 
justices, and  abuses,  and  miscliiefs,  and  corrujjtions,  as  to  leave 
the  impression  lli.it  for  securing  a  wlmlcsoiiie  stale  of  things, 
there  needs  nothing  but  to  set  aside  pi-esent  arrangements. 
The  im])licatioii  seems  ever  to  be  that  all  who  occu])y  jdaces 
of  power,  and  fonii  the  regulative  organization,  a^^  alone  to 
blame  for  wliatever  is  not  as  it  .should  be  ;  and  that  the  clas.ses 
regulated  are  blameless.     "Seethe  injinies  which  these  insti- 


CONCLUSION.  303 

tutions  inflict  on  you,"  says  the  energetic  reformer.  "  Con- 
sider how  selfish  must  be  tlie  men  who  maintain  them  to  their 
own  advantage  and  your  detriment,"  lie  adds.  And  then  he 
leaves  to  be  drawn  the  manifest  inference,  that  were  these 
selfish  men  got  rid  of,  all  would  be  well.  Neither  he  nor  his 
audience  recognizes  the  facts  that  regulative  arrangements  are 
essential ;  that  the  arrangements  in  question,  along  with  their 
many  vices,  have  some  virtues ;  that  such  vices  as  they  have 
do  not  result  from  an  egoism  peculiar  to  those  who  uphold 
and  work  them,  but  result  from  a  general  egoism — an  egoism 
no  less  decided  in  those  who  complain  than  in  those  com- 
plained of.  Inequitable  government  can  be  upheld  only  by 
the  aid  of  a  people  corresijondingly  inequitable,  in  its  senti- 
ments and  acts.  Injustice  cannot  reign  if  the  community 
does  not  furnish  a  due  supply  of  unjust  agents.  No  tyrant 
can  tyrannize  over  a  people  save  on  condition  that  the  people 
is  bad  enough  to  supply  him  with  soldiers  who  will  fight  for 
his  tyi'anny  and  keep  their  brethren  in  slavery.  Class-suprem- 
acy cannot  be  maintained  by  the  corrupt  buying  of  votes,  un- 
less there  are  multitudes  of  voters  venal  enough  to  sell  their 
votes.  It  is  thus  everywhere  and  in  all  degrees — misconduct 
among  those  in  power  is  the  correlative  of  misconduct  among 
those  over  whom  they  exercise  power. 

And  while,  in  the  men  who  urge  on  changes,  there  is  an 
unconsciousness  that  the  evils  they  denounce  are  rooted  in 
the  nature  common  to  themselves  and  other  men,  there  is  also 
an  unconsciousness  that  amid  the  things  they  would  throw 
away  there  is  much  worth  preserving.  This  holds  of  beliefs 
more  especially.  Along  with  the  destructive  tendency  there 
goes  but  little  constructive  tendency.  The  criticisms  made, 
imply  that  it  is  requisite' only  to  dissipate  errors,  and  that  it  is 
needless  to  insist  on  truths.  It  is  forgotten  that,  along  with 
forms  which  are  bad,  there  is  a  large  amount  of  substance 
which  is  good.  And  those  to  whom  there  ai'e  addressed  con- 
demnations of  the  forms,  unaccompanied  by  the  caution  that 
there  is  a  substance  to  be  preserved  in  higher  forms,  are  left, 
not  only  without  any  coherent  system  of  guiding  beliefs,  but 
without  any  consciousness  that  one  is  requisite. 

Hence  the  need,  aboA^e  admitted,  for  an  active  defence  of 
that  which  cxiots,  carried  on  by  men  convinced  of  its  entire 


364  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

worth ;  so  that  those  who  attack  may  not  destroy  the  good 
along  with  the  bad. 

And  here  let  me  point  out  distinctly,  the  truth  already  im- 
plied, that  studying  Sociology  scientifically,  leads  to  fairer  ap- 
preciations of  different  parties,  political,  religious,  and  other. 
The  conception  initiated  and  developed  by  Social  Science,  is 
at  the  same  time  Radical  and  Conservative — Radical  to  a  de- 
gree beyond  anj^hing  which  current  Radicalism  conceives ; 
Conservative  to  a  degree  beyond  anything  conceived  by  pres- 
ent Conservatism.  When  there  has  been  adequately  seized 
the  truth  that  societies  are  products  of  evolution,  assuming,  in 
their  various  times  and  places,  their  various  modifications  of 
structure,  and  function ;  there  follows  the  conviction  that 
what,  relatively  to  our  thoughts  and  sentiments.  Avere  arrange- 
ments of  extreme  badness,  had  fitnesses  to  conditions  which 
made  better  arrangements  impracticable :  whence  comes  a 
tolerant  interpretation  of  past  tyrannies  at  which  even  the 
bitterest  Tory  of  our  own  days  would  be  indignant.  On  the 
other  hand,  after  observing  how  the  processes  that  havo 
brought  things  to  their  present  stage  are  still  going  on,  not 
with  a  decreasing  rapidity  indicating  approach  to  cessation, 
but  with  an  increasing  rapidity  that  implies  long  continuance 
and  immense  transformations;  there  follows  the  conviction 
that  the  remote  future  has  in  store,  forms  of  social  life  higher 
than  any  we  have  imagined :  there  comes  a  faith  transcend- 
ing that  of  the  Radical,  who.se  aim  is  some  re-organization 
admitting  of  comparison  to  organizations  which  exist.  And 
while  this  conception  of  societies  as  naturally  evolved,  be- 
ginning with  small  and  simple  types  which  have  their  short 
existences  and  disappear,  advancing  to  higher  types  lliat  ;:re 
larger,  more  complex,  and  longer-lived,  coming  to  still-higher 
types  like  our  own,  great  in  size,  complexity,  and  duration, 
and  promising  ty])es  transcending  lliese  in  times  aft«>r  exist- 
ing sfx-ieties  have  died  away — while  tliis  coiicciition  of  so- 
cieties implies  that  in  the  slow  course  of  tilings  changes 
almost  imTneasural)l('  in  amount  iwo  possible,  it  also  iiii])lies 
that  but  small  amounts  of  siidi  changes  arc  ])ossiltl('  within 
short  periods. 

Thus,   tln'   theory   of   j»i'<>gress   disclo.scd    I)y   llie  study  of 


CONCLUSION.  365 

Sociology  as  science,  is  one  which  greatly  moderates  the 
hopes  and  the  fears  of  extreme  parties.  After  clearly  seeing 
that  tlie  structures  and  actions  throughout  a  society  are  de- 
termined by  the  properties  of  its  units,  and  that  (external  dis- 
turbances apart)  the  society  cannot  be  substantially  and  per- 
manently changed  without  its  units  being  substantially  and 
permanently  changed,  it  becomes  easy  to  see  that  great  altera- 
tions cannot  suddenly  be  made  to  much  purpose.  And  when 
both  the  party  of  progress  and  the  party  of  resistance  perceive 
that  the  institutions  which  at  any  time  exist  are  more  deeply 
rooted  than  tliey  supposed — when  the  one  party  perceives 
that  these  institutions,  imperfect  as  they  are,  have  a  tem- 
porary fitness,  while  the  other  party  perceives  that  the  main- 
tenance of  them,  in  so  far  as  it  is  desirable,  is  in  great  measure 
guaranteed  by  the  human  nature  they  have  grown  out  of ; 
there  must  come  a  diminishing  violence  of  attack  on  one 
side,  and  a  diminishing  perversity  of  defence  on  the  other. 
Evidently,  so  far  as  a  doctrine  can  influence  general  conduct 
(which  it  can  do,  however,  in  but  a  comparatively-small  de- 
gree), the  Docti'ine  of  Evolution,  in  its  social  application,  is 
calculated  to  produce  a  steadying  effect,  alike  on  thought  and 
action. 

If,  as  seems  likely,  some  should  propose  to  draw  the  seem- 
ingly-awkward corollary  that  it  matters  not  what  we  believe 
or  what  we  teach,  since  the  process  of  social  evolution  will 
take  its  own  course  in  spite  of  us ;  I  reply  that  while  this 
corollary  is  in  one  sense  true,  it  is  in  another  sense  untrue. 
Doubtless,  from  all  that  has  been  said  it  follows  that,  suppos- 
ing surrounding  conditions  continue  the  same,  the  evolution 
of  a  society  cannot  be  in  any  essential  way  diverted  from  its 
general  course  ;  though  it  also  follows  (and  here  the  corollary 
is  at  fault)  tliat  the  thoughts  and  actions  of  individuals,  being 
natural  factors  that  arise  in  the  course  of  the  evolution  itself, 
and  aid  in  further  advancing  it,  cannot  be  dispensed  with,  but 
must  be  severally  valued  as  increments  of  the  aggregate  force 
producing  change.  But  while  the  corollary  is  even  here  pai'- 
tially  misleading,  it  is,  in  another  direction,  far  more  seriously 
misleading.  For  though  the  process  of  social  evolution  is  in 
its  general  character  so  far  pre-determincd,  that  its  successive 
stages  cannot  be  ante-dated,  and  that  hence  no  teaching  or 


3G6  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

policy  can  advance  it  beyond  a  certain  normal  rate,  which  is 
limited  by  the  rate  of  organic  modification  in  human  beiugs  ; 
yet  it  is  quite  possible  to  perturb,  to  retard,  or  to  disorder  the 
process.  The  analogy  of  individual  development  again  serves 
us.  The  unfolding  of  an  organism  after  its  special  type,  has 
its  approximately-uniform  course  taking  its  tolerably-definite 
time ;  and  no  treatment  that  may  be  devised  mil  fundamen- 
tally change  or  gi*eatly  accelerate  these  :  the  best  that  can  be 
done  is  to  maintain  the  required  favourable  conditions.  But 
it  is  quite  easy  to  adopt  a  treatment  which  shall  dwarf,  or  de- 
form, or  otherwise  injure :  the  processes  of  growth  and  de- 
velopment may  be,  and  very  often  ai'e,  hindered  or  de- 
ranged, though  they  cannot  be  artificially  bettered.  Similarly 
with  the  social  organism.  Though,  by  maintaining  favour- 
able conditions,  there  cannot  be  more  good  done  than  that  of 
letting  social  progress  go  on  unhindered ;  yet  an  immensity 
of  mischief  may  be  done  in  the  v-ay  of  disturbing  and  dis- 
torting and  repressing,  by  policies  carried  out  in  pursuance  of 
erroneous  conceptions.  And  thus,  notwithstanding  first  ap- 
pearances to  the  contrary,  there  is  a  very  important  part  to  be 
played  by  a  true  theory  of  social  phenomena. 

A  few  words  to  those  who  think  these  general  conclusions 
discouraging,  may  be  added.  Probably  the  more  enthusi- 
astic, hopeful  of  great  ameliorations  in  the  state  of  mankind, 
to  be  brought  about  rapidly  by  propagating  this  belief  or 
initiating  that  reform,  will  feel  that  a  doctrine  negativing 
their  sanguine  anticipations  takes  away  much  of  the  stimulus 
to  exertion.  If  large  advances  in  hiunan  welfare  can  como 
only  in  the  slow  ])r()ccss  of  things,  which  will  inovitably  bring 
them  :  wliy  shouhl  we  truubk'  ourselves  ? 

Doubth'ss  it  is  true  that  on  visionary  hopes,  rational  criti- 
cisms have  a  dejire-ssing  influence.  It  is  better  to  recognize  the 
truth,  liowever.  As  l)etw(>en  infancy  and  maturily  there  is  no 
shortcut  by  wliidi  tliere  juay  be  avoided  the  tedious  process 
of  growtli  and  development  througli  insensibl(>  increments:  so 
tlierc  is  no  way  from  the  lower  forms  of  social  life  to  tlie 
higlier,  but  one  ]):issiiig  through  small  successive  modillca- 
tions.  If  we  conteniijlate  tlic^  order  of  nature,  we  see  that 
everywhere  va.st  results  are  brouglit  about  by  accunuilations 


CONCLUSION.  367 

of  minute  actions.  The  surface  of  the  Earth  has  been  sculp- 
tured by  forces  which  in  the  course  of  a  year  produce  altera- 
tions scarcely  anywhere  visible.  Its  multitudes  of  different 
organic  forms  have  arisen  by  processes  so  slow,  that,  during- 
the  periods  our  observations  extend  over,  the  results  are  in 
most  cases  inappreciable.  We  must  be  content  to  recognize 
these  truths  and  conform  our  hopes  to  them.  Light,  falling 
upon  a  crystal,  is  capable  of  altering  its  molecular  arrange- 
ments, but  it  can  do  this  only  by  a  repetition  of  impulses 
almost  innumerable  :  before  a  unit  of  ponderable  matter  can 
have  its  rhythmical  movements  so  increased  by  successive 
etherial  waves,  as  to  be  detached  from  its  combination  and 
arranged  in  another  way,  millions  of  such  etherial  waves 
must  successively  make  infinitesimal  additions  to  its  motion. 
Similarly,  before  there  arise  in  human  nature  and  human  in- 
stitutions, changes  having  that  permanence  which  makes  them 
an  acquired  inheritance  for  the  human  race,  there  must  go  in- 
numerable recurrences  of  the  thoughts,  and  feelings,  and 
actions,  conducive  to  such  changes.  The  process  cannot  be 
abridged  ;  and  must  be  gone  through  with  due  patience. 

Thus,  admitting  that  for  the  fanatic  some  wild  anticipation 
is  needful  as  a  stimulus,  and  recognizing  the  usefulness  of  his 
delusion  as  adapted  to  his  particular  nature  and  his  particular 
function,  the  man  of  higher  type  must  be  content  with 
greatly-moderated  expectations,  while  he  perseveres  with  un- 
diminished efforts.  He  has  to  see  how  comparatively  little 
can  be  done,  and  yet  to  find  it  worth  while  to  do  that  little : 
so  uniting  philantlu'opic  energy  with  philosophic  calm. 


Zi) 


POSTSCEIPT. 


Even  in  conversations  about  simple  matters,  statements 
clearly  made  are  often  misconceived  from  impatience  of  at- 
tention. The  tendency  to  conclude  quickly  from  small  evi- 
dence, which  leads  most  people  to  judge  of  strangers  on  a  first 
meeting,  and  which  causes  them  to  express  surprise  when  to 
the  question — "  How  do  you  like  so  and  so,"  you  reply  that 
you  have  formed  no  opinion,  is  often  betrayed  in  their  habits 
as  listeners.  Continually  it  turns  out  that  from  the  beginning 
of  a  sentence  in  course  of  utterance,  they  have  inferred  an 
entire  meaning ;  and,  ignoring  the  qualifying  clauses  which 
follow,  quite  misappi'ehend  the  idea  conveyed.  This  impa- 
tience of  attention  is  connected  with,  and  often  results  from, 
inability  to  grasp  as  a  whole  the  elements  of  a  complex  propo- 
sition. One  who  undertakes  to  explain  an  involved  matter  to 
a  person  of  undisciplined  intelligence,  finds  that  though  the 
person  has  understood  each  part  of  the  explanation,  he  has 
failed  to  co-ordinate  the  parts  ;  because  the  first  has  dropped 
out  of  his  mind  before  the  last  is  reached. 

This  holds  not  of  listeners  only,  but  of  many  readers. 
Either  a  premature  conclusion  positively  formed  from  the 
earlier  portions  of  an  exposition,  makes  further  reading  seem 
superfluous  ;  or  else  the  explanations  afterwards  read  do  not 
adequately  modify  this  conclusion  which  has  already  ob- 
tained possession,  and  on  behalf  of  which  some  amour  jyropre 
is  enlisted ;  or  else  there  is  an  incapacity  for  comprehending 
in  their  totality  the  assembled  propositions,  of  which  the 
earlier  are  made  tenable  only  by  combination  with  the  later. 

I  am  led  to  make  these  remarks  by  finding  how  greatly 
misunderstood  have  been  some  of  the  doctrines  set  forth  in 

369 


370  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

this  work.  Where  I  had,  as  I  believed,  made  my  meaning 
clear,  and  where,  on  re-reading,  the  statements  still  seem  to 
me  adequate,  I  have  been  supposed  to  express  views  quite 
ditferent  from  those  I  intended  to  express.  The  issue  of  this 
revised  edition  aifords  an  opportunity  for  rectifying  these 
misinterpretations,  and  I  gladly  take  it. 

I  will  begin  with  one  which,  partly  ascribable  to  the 
causes  just  indicated,  is  partly  ascribable  to  another  cause.  It 
shows  in  a  striking  manner,  how  established  modes  of  con- 
ceiving things  hinder  the  formation  of  alien  conceptions : 
even  to  the  extent  of  producing  an  apparent  inability  to  form 
them. 

In  Chapter  XIV.,  I  have  contended  that  policies,  legislative 
and  other,  which,  while  hindering  survival  of  the  fittest, 
further  the  propagation  of  the  unfit,  work  grave  mischiefs.  In 
the  course  of  the  argument  I  have  said : — 

"  Fostering  the  good-for-nothing  at  the  expense  of  the  good,  is  an 
extreme  cruelty.  It  is  a  deliberate  stirring-up  of  miseries  for  future 
generations.  There  is  no  greater  curse  to  posterity  than  that  of  be- 
queathing them  an  increasing  population  of  imbeciles  and  idlers  and 
criminals.  To  aid  the  bad  in  multiplying  is,  in  effect,  the  same  as 
maliciously  providing  for  our  descendants  a  multitude  of  enemies. 
It  may  be  doubted  whether  the  maudlin  philanthropy  which,  looking 
only  at  direct  mitigations,  persistently  ignores  indirect  mischiefs,  does 
not  inflict  a  greater  total  of  misery  than  the  extremest  selfishness 
inflicts." 

After  insisting  on  the  blameworthiness  of  those  who,  by 
thoughtless  givincf,  increase  suH'criug  instead  of  decreasing 
it,  I  have  guarded  myself  against  niisiuterpretation  by  say- 
ing :— 

"  Doubtless  it  is  in  the  order  of  things  that  parental  affection,  the 
regard  of  relatives,  and  the  spontaneous  generosity  of  friends  and 
even  of  strangers,  shou]<l  mitigate  the  pains  which  incapacity  has  to 
bear,  .'iml  the  penalties  which  unfit  impulses  bring  round.  Doubtless 
in  many  cases  tlio  reactive  influence  of  this  sympatlietic  care  which 
the  better  take  of  the  worse,  is  morally  beneficial,  and  in  a  degree 
compensates  by  good  in  one  direction  for  evil  in  another.  It  may  be 
fnllv  admitted  that  individual  nlli'uism,  left  to  itself,  will  work  ad- 
ViuiliiLTi'ously — wliiTcvcr.  at  least,  it  does  not  go  to  the  extent  of  help- 
ing tli(!  unworthy  to  multiply." 


POSTSCRIPT.  371 

And  the  reprobation  I  have  expressed  is  mainly  directed 
against  the  public  agencies  whicli  do  coercively  what  should 
be  done  voluntarily  ;  as  where  I  liave  said  that 

"  A  mechanically-working  State-apparatus,  distributing  money 
drawn  from  grumbling  rate-payers,  produces  little  or  no  moralizing 
effect  on  the  capables  to  make  up  for  multiplication  of  the  incapables." 

Little  did  I  think  that  these  passages  would  bring  on  me 
condemnation  as  an  enemy  to  the  poor.  Yet  in  four  Fi-encli 
periodicals,  representing  divergent  schools  of  French  opinion, 
have  I  been  thus  condemned.  Here  is  a  passage  from  the 
Bulletin  du  Mouvement  Social,  15  Juin,  1879  : — 

"Qu'un  economiste  imbu  exclusivement  des  principes  du  Dar- 
winisme  se  mette  a  raisonner  sur  la  condition  des  miserables,  vous  le 
verrez  arriver  a  un  vm  miseris  aussi  barbare  que  le  vcb  victis  des  an- 
ciens.  II  vous  dira  que.  dans  I'interet  du  progres  de  I'espece,  il  faut 
sacrifier  sans  pitie  ceux  qui  ne  sont  pas  armes  dans  la  lutte  pour 
I'existenee.  Je  le  ne  leur  fais  pas  dire.  Ecoutez  Spencer,"  &c. 
And  here  are  passages  from  a  review  of  the  Study  of  Soci- 
ology, published  in  the  Revue  des  deux  Mondes,  Vol.  VI.  of 
1874,  pp.  107-8  :— 

"  Condamner  d'avance  la  faiblesse  et  I'infirmite,  c'est  revenir  ;i  la 
theorie  lacedemonienne  de  I'exposition  des  enfans.  Si  Ton  etait  meme 
consequent,  il  ne  suffirait  plus  de  laisser  mourir,  il  faudrait  aller  jusqu'a 
supprimer." 

Then  representing  it  as  monstrous  to  "aiScher  ces  conse- 
quences barbares  au  nom  d'une  loi  biologique,"  and  reproach- 
ing me  with  paying  no  regard  to  the  social  sentiments,  to  the 
tenderness  for  the  feeble,  and  so  on,  the  reviewer  winds  up  by 
exclaiming : — 

"  Quelle  ecole  de  philosophie  que  celle  oh  un  Las  Cases,  un  Vincent 
de  Paul,  un  abbe  de  I'fipee,  un  Wilberforce,  seraient  consideres  comme 
les  ennemis  de  I'espece  huraaine  !  " 

M.  Paul  Janet,  a  member  of  the  Institute  of  France,  is  the 
writer  of  these  last  passages.  I  have  recognized,  as  who  would 
not,  the  beneficence  of  "  parental  affection  "  as  fostering  the 
feeble ;  and  yet  he  describes  me  as  practically  desiring  a  re- 
turn to  the  Spartan  practice  of  exposing  infants  !  I  have  said 
that  "  the  regard  of  relatives "  may  rightly  "  mitigate  the 
pains  which  incapacity  has  to  bear : "  and  yet  he  asserts  that 
I  would  leave  the  infirm  to  die,  and,  logically,  am  bound  to 
wish  them  destroyed  !     I  have  admitted  that  "  the  spontaneous 


372  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

generosity  of  friends  and  even  of  strangers "  should  qualify 
"  the  penalties  which  unfit  impulses  bring  round ; "  and  yet 
the  "consequences  barbares '' of  my  doctrine  are  represented 
as  being  not  simply  absence  of  aid  to  the  inferior  but  active 
suppression  of  them  !  I  have  said  that  "  individual  alti'uism, 
left  to  itself,  "will  work  advantageously  ; "  and  yet  it  is  alleged 
that  I  must  consider  the  distinguished  philanthropists  he 
names  as  enemies  of  the  human  race ! 

That  M.  Janet's  reproaches  are  unwarranted,  and  that  he 
has  circulated  statements  of  my  views  widely  at  variance  with 
the  truth,  is  sufficiently  manifest.  A  thing  not  so  manifest  is 
that  he  does  not  see,  or  will  not  see,  that  the  general  doctrine 
urged,  is  urged  as  being  more  humane  instead  of  less  humane. 
He  is  apparently  blind  to  the  fact  that  a  kindness  which  con- 
siders only  proximate  effects  may  be,  and  often  is,  much  less 
in  degree  than  a  kindness  wliich  takes  into  account  ultimate 
effects.  A  sympathy  which  thinks  only  of  the  suffering  an 
operation  will  give,  and  exclaims  at  the  cruelty  of  performing 
it,  is  a  sympathy  inferior  to  that  which,  equally  affected  by 
the  pain  inflicted,  nevertheless  inflicts  it,  tliat  dj'ing  agonies 
may  be  escaped  and  restoration  to  health  and  ha])piness 
achieved.  Anxiety  for  the  welfare  of  the  poor  and  efforts  on 
their  behalf  may  coexist  with  profound  disapproval  of,  and 
strong  opposition  to,  all  policies  which  forcibly  burden  the 
worthy  that  the  unworthy  may  be  fostered.  If  an  illustration 
of  their  coexistence  be  asked,  I  can  furnish  a  conclusive  one 
in  the  case  of  a  late  relative  of  mine,  the  Rev.  Thos.  Spencer, 
for  many  years  clergyman  of  a  rural  parish  in  Somerset- 
shire. Uncared-for  as  were  his  parishioners  when  he  went 
among  them,  he  established  first  a  Sunday-school,  then  a  vil- 
lage day-school,  then  a  village-library,  then  land-allotments 
for  labourers,  tlien  a  clothing  clul).  To  his  local  i)]iilaii(l)ropic 
at'tioiis  were  added  general  ones.  He  made  efforts  for  cliurch- 
reform  (thus  otrciidiug  liis  ])is]io})  and  desfroying  his  chance 
of  preferment)  ;  lie  ])ublicly  sliarcd  in  ;i  niovcincnt  for  extend- 
ing the  suffrage  ;  he  took  an  active  part  Jis  writer  and  speaker 
in  tlie  .\nti-('()rn-Tj;iw  agitation  ;  he  gave  connlh^ss  lectin-es  in 
furtherance  of  t<'ni|)('rance.  Wiu'ii  not  otlu  rw  ise  occupied  he 
wrote  pamphlets  (twenty-two  in  nunil)er)  all  directed  in  one  or 
other  way  to  ini)>roving  tlie  condition,  l)odily  and  mental,  of 


POSTSCRIPT.  373 

the  masses;  and  he  eventually  died  prematurely  from  the 
effects  of  over-work  in  seeking  to  ameliorate  the  lives  of  the 
less-happily  placed  and  the  less-happily  constituted.  And 
now  what  were  his  views  on  the  question  here  at  issue  ?  Orig- 
inally, while  yet  his  experience  of  results  was  narrow,  he 
was  always  on  the  side  of  the  pauper  and  against  the  over- 
seer ;  but  as  his  experience  widened,  ih-st  in  his  own  parish 
and  then  as  chairman  of  the  Bath  Union,  he  became  an 
avowed  opponent  to  all  compulsory  charity.  Of  his  four 
tracts  under  the  title  Reasons  for  a  Poor-laiv  considered, 
dated  1841,  the  first,  setting  out  by  adverting  to  the  evils  a 
Poor-law  entails,  asks,  "  whether  there  are  any  adequate  rea- 
sons that  such  a  law  should  exist  at  all ; "  and  the  remaining 
three  are  occupied  in  showing  that  there  are  no  adequate  rea- 
sons. In  the  course  of  the  argument  he  gives  cases,  coming 
under  his  own  observation,  of  the  sufferings  caused.  He 
names  industrious  men  for  many  weeks  out  of  work,  com- 
pelled to  pay  rates  and  starve  their  children,  that  the  idle 
might  not  be  hungry ;  men  invalided,  whose  allowances  from 
sick  clubs  to  which  they  had  for  years  subscribed,  were  in 
part  swept  away  by  the  overseer's  agent ;  widows  whose  off- 
spring had  to  be  further  pinched  that  support  might  be  given 
to  women  with  illegitimate  offspring  ;  artizans  settled  in  other 
parishes,  losing  their  goods  by  distraint  for  nonpaj-ment  of 
rates  and  obliged  to  return  to  their  own  parishes  as  paupers. 
These  and  other  such  atrocities  committed  in  the  name  of 
Law,  strengthened  in  him  the  conviction  otherwise  reached, 
that  public  charity  is  essentially  vicious ;  and  the  evidence  I 
have  given  proves  that  not  lack  of  deep  sympathy  with  the 
inferior  and  the  miserable  was  the  cause,  but  a  still  deeper 
sympathy  with  good  men  in  adversity,  whose  difficulties, 
already  great,  were  artificially  made  greater. 

While  to  repudiate  M.  Janet's  interpretation  of  my  views 
has  been  one  purpose  of  the  foregoing  paragraphs,  a  further 
purpose  has  been  that  of  illustrating  the  truth  set  forth  in 
Chapter  III.,  that  in  every  society  there  is  maintained  a  gen- 
eral congruity  between  the  nature  of  the  aggregate  and  the 
natvire  of  the  units— a  truth  which  I  have  elsewhere  (Data  of 
Ethics,  §§  38,  50)  reverted  to  as  impljnng  that  always  a  gen- 
eral harmony  between  institutions  and  opinions  establishes 


374  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

itself.  For  with  a  clearness  greater  even  than  I  was  prepared 
to  find,  we  are  here  shown  how  the  form  of  a  social  organiza- 
tion and  the  entailed  social  habits,  generate  a  correlative  mode 
of  thinking'  from  which  it  seems  scarcely  possible  to  escape. 
M.  Janet  and  those  various  other  French  critics  who  have 
expressed  the  same  view,  are  so  habituated  to  the  thought  of 
State-control  as  extending  over  all  social  affairs,  that  they 
have  become  almost  incapacitated  for  conceiving  of  social 
affairs  as  any  of  them  otherwise  regulated.  Everything  in 
their  experience  being  administered,  they  are  scarcely  able  to 
entertain  the  idea  that  anything  can  do  Avithout  administra- 
tion. The  question  with  regard  to  each  public  matter  is — 
Will  it  be  better  for  the  Government  to  take  this  course  or  that 
course  ?  and  the  question — Will  it  be  better  for  the  Govern- 
ment to  do  nothing  ?  is  a  question  which  can  scarcely  find 
entrance.  Hence  in  the  case  before  us,  it  happens  that  the 
only  possible  alternatives  recognized,  are  fostering  the  inferior 
or  suppressing  the  inferior.  That  public  agency  should  neither 
foster  nor  suppress  seems  to  have  become  inconceivable.  For 
there  is  entirely  ignored  the  conclusion  I  have  urged,  that  the 
unworthy,  and  tliose  whose  defects  bring  evils  on  tliem.  wliile 
they  should  be  left  free  to  do  the  best  they  can  for  themselves, 
should  receive  such  help  only  as  private  sympathy  prompts 
relatives,  friends,  and  strangers  to  give  them. 

From  the  doctrines  set  forth  in  this  work,  some  have 
drawn  the  corollary  that  effort  in  furtherance  of  progress  is 
superfluous.  "  If,"  they  argue,  "  the  evolution  of  a  society 
conforms  general  laws — if  the  changes  whicli,  in  the  slow 
course  of  tilings  bring  it  about,  are  naturally  determined; 
then  what  need  is  tliere  of  endeavours  to  aid  it  ?  The  hy- 
pothesis implies  that  the  transformation  results  from  causes 
beyond  individual  wills  ;  and,  if  so,  the  acts  of  individuals  in 
fuHiliiK^it  of  their  wills  are  not  required  to  efrect  it.  Ileuoo 
W(^  may  o('rui)y  ourselves  exclusively  with  ])crsonal  concerns; 
leaving  social  evolution  to  go  its  own  way." 

This  is  a  inis.qiiin'hension  naturally  fallen  into  and  not 
quite  easy  to  escape  from  ;  for  to  get  out  of  it  the  citizen  must 
siuniltrinfously  conceivf  himself  as  one  whose  will  is  a  factor 
in  .social  evolutioji,  and  yet  as  one  whose  will  is  a  product  of 


POSTSCRIPT.  375 

all  antecedent  influences,  social  included.  How  to  unite 
these  conceptions  will  best  be  seen  on  reverting  to  the  rela- 
tions between  the  social  organism  and  its  components,  as 
most  g-euerally  stated. 

In  Chapter  III.  the  truth  that  the  nature  of  an  aggregate 
is  determined  by  the  natures  of  its  units,  first  illustrated  in 
the  cases  of  aggregates  of  simpler  kinds,  was  then  alleged  of 
the  social  aggregate.  It  was  pointed  out  that  the  particular 
set  of  relations  into  which  the  members  of  a  community  fall, 
depends  on  their  characters — that  where  their  characters  are 
of  a  certain  kind,  no  social  structure  at  all  arises  ;  that  where 
some  ability  to  co-operate  is  shown,  they  habitually  present 
some  common  traits  implied  by  submission  to  control ;  and 
that,  on  comparing  societies  of  all  orders,  those  which  differ 
widely  in  their  structures  are  found  to  difl'er  widely  in  the 
natures  of  their  members,  while  those  which  are  but  little 
dissimilar  do  not  present  great  dissimilarities  of  popular 
character.  Further,  we  saw  that  there  goes  on  a  reciprocal 
action  and  reaction  between  each  people  and  its  institutions. 
If  by  altered  cii'cumstances,  such  as  those  which  continuous 
war  or  prolonged  peace  involve,  some  social  structures  are 
rendered  inactive  and  dwindle,  while  others  are  brought  into 
greater  activity  and  grow,  the  natures  of  citizens  are  modified 
into  congruity  with  them.  While,  conversely,  if  changed 
modes  of  life  change  the  characters  of  citizens,  their  changed 
characters  presently  cause  responsive  changes  iij  their  in- 
stitutions. 

But  now  under  what  condition  alone  can  the  changed 
characters  of  citizens  work  changes  in  their  institutions  ?  The 
condition  is  that  their  changed  characters  shall  display  them- 
selves in  changed  actions.  To  expect  that  the  society  will 
evolve  further  while  they  remain  passive,  is  to  expect  that  it 
will  evolve  further  without  cause.  Each  man  in  whom  dis- 
satisfaction is  aroused  by  institutions  which  have  survived 
from  a  less  civilized  past,  or  whose  sympathies  make  certain 
evils  repugnant  to  him,  must  regard  his  feelings  thus  excited 
as  units  in  the  aggregate  of  forces  by  which  progress  is  to  be 
brought  about ;  and  is  called  on  to  expend  his  feelings  in 
appropriate  deeds.  An  analogy  will  best  show  how  there 
may  be  reconciled  the  two  propositions  that  social  evolution 


376  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

is  a  process  conforming  to  natural  laws,  and  yet  that  it  results 
from  the  voluntary  efforts  of  citizens. 

It  is  a  truth  statistically  established,  that  in  each  com- 
munity, while  its  conditions  remain  the  same,  there  is  a  uni- 
form rate  of  marriage :  such  vai'iations  in  the  numbers  of 
marriages  as  accompany  vai'iations  in  the  prices  of  food, 
serving  to  show  tliat  so  long  as  the  impediments  to  marriage 
do  not  vary  the  frequency  of  marriages  does  not  vary.  Sim- 
ilarly, it  is  found  that  along  with  an  average  frequency  of 
marriages  there  goes  an  average  frequency  of  births.  But 
though  these  averages  show  that  the  process  of  human  multi- 
plication presents  uniformities,  implying  constancy  in  the 
action  of  general  causes,  it  is  not  therefore  inferred  that  the 
process  of  human  multiplication  is  independent  of  people's 
wills.  If  anyone  were  to  argue  that  marriages  and  births, 
considered  in  the  aggregate,  are  social  phenomena  statistically 
proved  to  depend  on  influences  which  operate  uniformly,  and 
that  therefore  the  maintenance  of  population  does  not  de- 
pend on  individual  actions,  his  inference  would  be  rejected 
as  absurd.  Daily  experience  proves  that  marrying  and 
the  reai'ing  of  children  in  each  case  result  from  the  pur- 
suit of  exclusively  private  ends.  It  is  only  by  fulfilling 
their  individual  wills  in  establishing  and  maintaining 
the  domestic  relations,  that  citizens  produce  these  aggre- 
gate results  which  exhibit  uniformities  apparently  inde- 
pendent of  individual  wills.  In  this  instance,  then,  it  is  ob- 
vious that  social  phenomena  follow  certain  general  courses ; 
and  yet  that  they  can  do  this  only  on  condition  that  so- 
cial units  voluntarily  act  out  their  natures.  Wliile  every- 
one liolds  that,  ill  tlie  matter  of  marriage,  liis  will  is,  in  the 
ordinary  sense  of  the  word,  free;  yet  he  is  obliged  to  rec- 
ognize the  fact  that  his  will,  and  the  wills  of  others,  are 
so  far  dctcnniiied  by  coiiuiioii  clcDiciits  of  Iiuiumii  nature, 
as  to  ])ro(liic(>  tliese  average  social  results;  ami  that  no  such 
social  results  could  be  i)roduced  did  they  not  fuKil  their 
wills. 

Similarly,  then,  with  these  changes  const itnting  ]irogress, 
wliicli  ai'c  desired  by  the  ])liilaiitlii'o])ic.  Tlioiigli  liiglier  in- 
stitutions will  evolve  in  conformity  with  general  laws,  when 
the  natures  of  citizens  permit;  yet  they  will  do  this  only  in 


POSTSCRIPT.  377 

proportion  as  each  citizen  manifests  in  action,  that  nature  to 
which  they  are  the  correlatives. 

But  now  instead  of  these  reasons  for  passivity  which  may 
thus  be  met,  there  come  from  some,  other  reasons  for  passivity 
more  difficult  to  meet.  Admitting  that  social  evolution  can 
result  only  if  the  natures  of  citizens  issue  in  appropriate  con- 
duct, and  that  therefore  those  who  have  human  progress  at 
heart  must  use  fit  means,  some  will  put  the  question — What 
are  fit  means  ?  Impressed  by  the  evidence  that  legislative 
acts,  and  deeds  prompted  by  benevolence,  prove  in  multitu- 
dinous cases  injurious  rather  than  advantageous,  they  hesitate 
lest  they  should  work  evil  instead  of  good.  They  ask  how 
the  apparently  beneficial  but  really  mischievous  measures, 
are  to  be  distinguished  from  measures  that  are  essentially 
and  permanently  beneficial.      Let  us  listen  to  one  of  them. 

"When  goldsmiths,  and  mercers,  and  fishmongers,  and 
traders  of  other  kinds,  severally  formed  guilds  for  the  pro- 
tection and  regulation  of  their  respective  businesses,  they 
would  have  thought  insane  the  prophecy  that  centuries 
afterwards  the  guilds  would  be  composed  of  men  uncon- 
nected with  these  businesses,  who  would  spend  the  vast  funds 
accumulated  chiefiy  in  gigantic  and  luxurious  feasts.  Those 
who  in  past  times  founded  schools  for  the  poor,  never  dreamt 
that  the  funds  they  bequeathed  would  be  perverted  to  the 
use  of  the  rich ;  nor  could  they  have  believed  that  by  pro- 
viding what  was  then  thought  good  education  they  would 
eventually  hinder  the  spread  of  better  education.  How  do  I 
know  that  an  agency  which  I  aid  in  establishing  to  achieve 
one  end,  will  not  similarly  be  turned  in  future  to  some  other 
end  ?  or  that  what  now  seems  to  me  a  benefit,  will  not 
eventually  prove  an  evil  by  standing  in  the  way  of  greater 
benefit  ?  Am  I  told  that  in  future,  more  control  and  better 
judgment  will  prevent  corruptions  and  perversions  ?  I  can- 
not hope  it.  Even  now  I  see  recurring,  mischiefs  of  the  same 
nature  as  have  before  occurred  under  like  conditions.  For 
instance,  there  are  signs  that  again  in  Ireland,  the  stops  taken 
to  meet  distress  are  working  evils  akin  to  those  worked  dur- 
ing the  distress  of  1847,  when  the  relief -system  fostered  '  an 
organised  combination  to  discourage  the  cultivation  of  the 


378  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

soil,  and  to  persuade  the  people  that  if  they  leave  it  untilled 
the  Government  and  Parliament  will  forever  be  obliged  to 
maintain  them '  {Debates,  February  19,  1847)  ;  and  when  a 
landlord,  responding  to  the  request  of  his  tenants  for  seed- 
wheat,  but  doubting  their  intentions,  had  the  800  stones  he 
bought  '  steeped  in  a  solution  of  sulphate  of  iron  and  then 
announced  that  they  might  have  it,  but  they,  finding  they 
could  not  eat  it,  would  not  take  a  gi-ain;'  {Times,  March 
26tli,  1817).  Every  day  brings  examples  of  the  ways  in 
which  measures  work  these  unexpected  results :  instance  the 
evil  which  has  come  along  with  the  good  promised  by  State- 
telegraphy.  Just  noting  that  within  the  metropolis  teleg- 
raphy has  been  doubled  in  price  that  a  lower  uniform  rate 
might  be  given  for  all  places — observing,  too,  that  as  the 
telegrapli-wires  extended  into  remote  districts  yield  miserably 
small  returns,  it  results  that  the  more  populous  places  are 
taxed  for  the  benefit  of  the  less  populous  ;  I  pass  to  the  fact 
whicli  chiefly  strikes  me.  Improvement  in  telegraphy  has 
been  arrested  since  State  purchase  of  the  telegraphs.  As  Dr. 
Charles  Siemens,  the  highest  authority  points  out,  before  this 
change  England  led  the  way  in  telegraphic  inventions ;  but 
since  this  change  telegraphic  inventions  come  to  us  from 
America,  where  telegraphs  do  not  belong  to  the  State,  and  ai'e 
here  introduced  not  at  all  or  with  diiliculty  after  great  delay. 
And  further  proof  is  now  furnished  by  the  Times  (llay  27, 
1880),  which  tells  us  that  its  chief  difficulty  in  establishing 
Parliamentary  reporting  by  telephone,  has  been  the  opposi- 
tion of  the  Post-office. 

"  More  reasons  for  pausing  are  disclosed  on  observing  the 
wider  results  produced.  Beyond  the  special  effects  of  each 
measure  taken  for  artificially  curing  evils  or  achieving  bene- 
fits, th(>re  comes  a  general  effect  of  an  unobtrusive  but  moment- 
ous kind.  Every  extension  of  public  action  limits  <ho  si)hero 
for  private  action  ;  modilies  tlie  concei)tions  of  ]>rivate  re- 
sponsibility and  public  responsibility;  makes  further  exten- 
sions of  public  responsil)ility  easier :  and  tends  eventually  to 
make  them  needful,  since  the  more  helj)  the  more  hell)h'ssness. 
(')l)ligatioiis('v<'n  of  primary  kinds  ;\rr  willingly  Iransfrrred  by 
iiuiividuals  to  llu'  couimunity,  when  the  opjiortunity  is  given. 
Witness  'the  history  of  the  Bureau  Municipal  des  Nourrices 


POSTSCRIPT.  379 

in  Paris,  which  has  existed  for  more  than  a  century,  at  a  cost 
latterly  of  £20,000  a  year,  to  assist  the  bourgeoises  in  finding 
wet-nurses — an  institution  under  whicli  the  mortality  of  chil- 
dren has  varied  from  45  per  cent,  downwards,  and  which  has 
been  at  length  abolished  (see  Medical  Times,  February,  1876). 
And  if,  where  parental  affection  might  be  expected  to  resist, 
such  a  perversion  of  normal  into  abnormal  relations  between 
parent  and  offspring  may  take  place,  still  more  may  it  take 
place  where  the  natural  resistance  to  be  anticipated  is  less. 
Certain  sequences  of  State-teaching  now  showing  themselves 
among  us,  may  presently  have  large  developments.  Already 
in  London  there  have  been  set  up  in  connexion  with  Board- 
schools,  sundry  nurseries  where  infants  are  taken  care  of 
while  the  elder  children  are  taught  their  lessons ;  and,  con- 
venient as  they  are,  such  school  appendages,  multiplying,  may 
make  public  nursing  a  familiar  idea  and  the  care  of  infants 
by  their  mothers  a  less  peremptory  obligation.  Public  feed- 
ing, too,  has  been  not  only  suggested  but  even  effected,  though 
not  yet  in  Board-schools  (see  Tijnes,  May  17th,  1880,  where 
the  advantages  derived  are  insisted  upon).  Some  ui^ge  that 
shoeless  and  ragged  children  should  be  provided  with  cloth- 
ing by  the  Parish,  that  they  may  be  more  fit  to  attend  school ; 
and  presently,  perhaps,  some  steps  in  this  direction,  first  small 
and  then  large,  will  be  taken.  Though  at  present  there  seems 
little  fear  that  the  rearing  of  children  will  be  made  a  State- 
business  instead  of  a  family-business,  which  is  the  logical  out- 
come of  the  policy,  yet  the  tendency  in  that  direction  must 
increase  with  the  widening  of  popular  power.  Every  exten- 
sion of  the  policy  affects  at  once  the  type  of  social  organiza- 
tion and  the  concomitant  social  sentiments  and  theories.  As 
fast  as  there  are  established  by  the  help  of  taxes,  public  libra- 
ries, public  museums,  public  gardens,  public  gas  and  water 
supplies,  public  industrial  dwellings,  and  by  and  by  public 
railways  as  well  as  telegraphs — as  fast  as  there  are  multiplied, 
inspectors  of  schools,  of  factories,  of  ships,  of  mines,  of  lodg- 
ing houses,  and  of  multitudinous  things  down  to  water-closets 
and  prostitutes — there  is  strengthened  the  idea  that  corporate 
agency  is  to  do  everything  and  individual  agency  nothing. 
The  inevitable  result  is  an  increasing  dissociation  of  faculty 
from  prosperity ;  first  as  realized  in  experience  and  then  as 


380  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

established  in  the  general  belief.    The  greater  the  number  of 
benefits  provided  by  public  means  for  all,  and  the  fewer  bene- 
fits provided  hj  each  for  himself,  the  less  marked  becomes  the 
advantage  of  merit  and  the  less  effort  is  there  to  be  meritori- 
ous.    This  undiscriminating  distribution  of  aids,  as  its  effects 
grow  familiar,  becoming  popular  with  the  inferior  who  form 
the  majority,  must  tend  ever  to  grow  where  the  majority  can 
get  their  way  by  voting  or  by  intimidation — the  more  so  since 
each  generation,  habituated  to  it  from  childhood,  accepts  it  as 
the  natural  order  of  things  and  becomes  impatient  if  every 
suggested  good  is  not  provided  or  evil  cm-ed.    One  who  recalls 
the  cry  of  the  Roman  populace  '  bread  and  games,'  may  see  to 
what  lengths  this  policy  and  its  concomitant  theory  may  go. 
Long-established  and  spreading  usage  can  produce  the  most 
perverse  ideas.     Who,  for  instance,  would  have  imagined  tliat 
the  State-licensing  system  under  the  French  despotism  would 
have  generated  the  belief  that  '  the  right  of  working  is  a  royal 
right  which  the  prince  can  sell  and  subjects  must  buy.'     And 
if  thus  by  a  certain  social  system,  the  correlative  doctrine  may 
be  carried  to  so  astonishing  an  extreme  in  one  direction  ;  so, 
to  an  equally  astonishing  extreme,  may  another  social  system 
carry  its  correlative  doctrine  in  an  opposite  direction.     In  the 
alleged  '  right  to  a  maintenance  out  of  the  soil,'  claimed  for 
each   man   whatever  his  conduct,   which   was    the    popular 
dogma  under  the  old  Poor-law.  we  have  a  conception  which, 
fos°tered  by  ever-multiplying   public    agencies   for  carrying 
home  benefits  to  individuals  irrespective  of  labour  expended 
by  them,  is  capable  of  developing  into  the  conviction  that  the 
personal  well  being  of  each  is  a  mailer  not  of  pi-ivate  concern 
but  of  i)ublic  concern  :  the  manifest  limit  being  absolute  com- 
munism. 

"And  then  if  I  go  a  step  further,  and  a.sk  how  these  ideas 
and  usages  react  on  the  characters  and  capacities  of  citizens, 
there  is  forced  ujjon  nie  the  conclusion  that  they  work  towards 
industrial  inelliciency  and  national  decay.  This  equalising, 
so  far  lis  may  be,  the  results  of  merit  and  demerit,  slowly  pro- 
duces in  a  large  community  effects  that  arc  not  easy  to  trace 
and  identify;  I'lit  in  small  <-()rporaf(^  bodit-s  the  effects  are 
quickly  atui  <-l.-ail\  shown.  A  tyi)ical  instance  is  furnished 
by  til.-  history  of  the  L'liamounix  guides.     Some  twenty  years 


POSTSCRIPT.  381 

ago  things  stood  on  tlieir  proper  footing.  Climbers  of  the 
high  peaks  chose  guides  whose  skill  and  trustwortliiness  had 
been  well  proved ;  while  guides  of  characters  not  so  well  es- 
tablished, received  smaller  pay  for  less  difReult  expeditions. 
At  the  same  time  there  was  a  free  choice  of  mules,  and  travel- 
lers naturally  picked  out  the  best.  Afterwards  arose  an  incor- 
poration of  guides  which  put  a  check  on  this  liberty  of  selec- 
tion ;  and  their  system  was  further  developed  on  the  annexa- 
tion of  Savoy  to  France:  with  French  annexation  came 
French  officialism.  Gruides  had  to  pass  an  examination  ;  and, 
when  certified,  were  placed  on  a  list  from  which  travellers 
had  to  accept  them  in  rotation.  The  mules,  too,  had  to  be 
taken  in  turn.  That  is.  differences  of  efficiency  were,  as  much 
as  possible,  prevented  from  producing  their  normal  effects. 
And  now  what  has  happened  ?  Mi\  Wills,  a  late  president 
of  the  Alpine  Club,  writes  (and  his  statement  is  confirmed  by 
another  late  president.  Professor  Tyndall)  :— '  I  have  been  a 
resident  in  Savoy  during  a  part  of  every  year  since  the  an- 
nexation, as  well  as  having  known  it  very  well  before,  and  I 
have  seen  with  pain  and  sorrow  the  rapid  deterioration  brought 
about  by  a  system  so  fearfully  and  wonderfully  perfect  in  all 
the  arts  and  means  by  which  public  spirit,  independence,  and 
self-respect  can  be  crushed  out  of  the  national  life.  Now  the 
influences  here  seen  operating  in  a  special  way,  on  a  small 
scale,  and  in  a  short  time,  inevitably  operate  in  a  general  way 
on  a  large  scale,  and  in  a  long  time,  throughout  a  nation 
which  divorces  individual  worth  from  individual  prosperity. 
When  funds  raised  from  all  citizens,  are  turned  into  advan- 
tao-es  distributed  in  common  to  all  citizens,  the  better  and  the 
worse  are  to  that  extent  reduced  to  the  same  level ;  and  the 
more  multitudinous  the  ways  in  which  this  is  done,  the  more 
are  the  lives  of  tlie  efficient  and  prudent  made  like  the  lives 
of  the  inefiicient  and  imprudent.  Inevitably,  therefore,  socie- 
ties which  pursue  this  policy  which  impedes  the  multiplica- 
tion of  the  better  while  aiding  the  multiplication  of  the  worse, 
must  so  deteriorate  in  average  nature  that  in  the  struggle  for 
existence  they  must  go  to  the  wall  before  societies  which  allow 
the  worthy  to  reap  their  rewards  and  the  unworthy  to  suffer 
their  penalties. 

"Thus  when  I  consider  what  steps  I  ought  to  take  in 


3S2  THE  STUDY   OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

furtherance  of  social  evolution,  there  rise  before  me  so  many 
probabilities  of  evils  likely  to  be  entailed  by  this  or  the  other 
measui'e  proposed,  that  I  think  it  safer  to  remain  passive." 

But  now,  admitting  in  full  these  arguments,  which  rein- 
force arguments  set  forth  in  sundry  of  the  foregoing  chapters, 
it  may  be  contended  that,  so  far  from  justifying  passivity, 
they  render  all  the  more  imperative  a  special  kind  of  activity. 
For  if  the  outcome  of  them  is  that  evil  arises  from  divorcinar 
cause  and  consequence  in  conduct,  then  the  implication  is 
that  good  arises  from  making  the  connexion  between  cause 
and  consequence  more  definite  and  certain.  And  in  improv- 
ing the  means  to  this  end  there  is  ample  scope  for  efPort. 
Contemplate  a  moment  the  obvei'se  of  the  projiosition  above 
set  forth. 

Though  in  low  societies,  formed  of  unadapted  men  held 
together  by  coercion,  no  better  arrangement  is  practicable 
than  that  under  which  the  relation  between  eifort  and  benefit 
is  traversed  by  force,  so  that  those  who  work  enjoy  but  little 
of  that  which  they  produce,  while  that  which  they  produce  is 
largely  appropriated  by  others  who  have  not  worked ;  yet  we 
recognize  tliis  regime  as  one  not  consistent  with  the  greatest 
individual  welfare  or  greatest  sum  of  happiness.  Along  with 
advance  to  a  higher  social  state,  in  which  life  is  carried  on  not 
by  compulsory  cooperation  but  by  voluntary  cooperation, 
there  lias  grown  llie  moral  perception  of  what  we  call  equity. 
Continued  tlirougli  many  generations,  the  discipline  of  indus- 
trialism (implying  in  every  ti*ansaction  fulfilment  of  contract, 
which  involves  respect  for  the  claims  of  others  and  assertion 
of  the  claims  of  self)  has  developed  the  consciousness  that 
each  ought  to  get  neither  more  nor  less  than  an  equivalent  for 
his  services,  of  what  kind  soever  they  niay  l)e  :  the  amount  of 
such  equivalent  being  in  every  case  determined  by  the  agree- 
ment to  give  it.  And,  considered  in  Ww'w  ensemble A\\Q  pro- 
gressive iniiirovoTiionts  of  laws,  and  all  Ihose  polilical  amelio- 
rations whieli  bi-ing  after  them  im])r()veinents  of  laws,  have 
as  tlieir  general  elTect  the  better  maintenance  of  this  normal 
relation  between  etfoi'l  .ind  brnefit. 

It  follows,  flirii.  thill  successful  endeavours  fo  iniike  the 
admiuislralioii  of  justice  prompt,  conipKLe,  and  ecimomical, 


POSTSCKIPT.  3S3 

will  bring  pure  benefit ;  or  if  not  pure  benefit,  still,  an  im- 
mense surplus  of  benefit.  Tliat  which  the  philanthropist  and 
the  political  reformer  leave  almost  unthought  of  as  an  object 
to  be  laboured  for,  is  that  which,  above  all  other  objects,  is 
worthy  of  their  labour.  Attracted  as  their  attention  is  by 
special  evils  to  be  cured,  they  think  little  of  the  universal ly- 
difi'used  evils  which  the  non-enforcement  of  equity  entails. 
Nor  do  they  see  that  many  of  the  beneficial  changes  which 
they  fail  to  achieve  by  direct  measures,  would  be  achieved  in- 
directly were  easy  remedies  for  all  injustices  within  the  reach 
of  every  citizen.  Let  us  consider  the  matter  under  its  several 
aspects — some  familiar,  some  unfamiliar. 

On  the  individual  sufferings  entailed  by  the  uncertainty 
and  costliness  of  law,  it  is  needless  to  dwell.  Every  family 
can  furnish  one  or  more  histories  of  lawsuits  by  which  rela- 
tives seeking  justice  have  been  impoverished.  When  I  have 
repeated  the  remark  lately  made  to  me  by  a  judge,  in  agree- 
ment with  another  judge  he  quoted,  that  he  often  wished  he 
could  charge  the  costs  of  the  suits  brought  before  him,  on  the 
lawyers  who  conducted  them — when  I  have  conveyed  the 
feeling  of  a  solicitor  expressed  to  me  but  yesterday,  that  how- 
ever strong  his  case  might  be,  he  would  rather  toss-up  with 
his  antagonist  which  should  yield  than  go  into  court ;  I  have 
said  enough  to  remind  all  how  vicious  is  the  judicial  system 
under  which  we  live,  and  how  often  ruin  rather  than  restitu- 
tion comes  to  those  who  seek  its  aid  when  wronged.  Usually, 
indeed,  it  is  thought  that  these  evils  which,  extreme  as  they 
are,  custom  reconciles  us  to,  are  evils  felt  only  by  the  classes 
carrying  on  business  and  by  those  who  possess  property. 
Though  in  rural  districts  there  frequeiitly  occur  such  aggres- 
sions on  labourers  as  those  which  take  away  rights  of  com-  • 
mon — though  by  magistrates  belonging  to  the  ujjper  ranks, 
the  punishments  inflicted  for  offences  committed  by  those  be- 
longing to  the  lower  ranks  are  often  utterly  disproportioned — 
though  the  assault  which,  in  default  of  money,  brings  impris- 
onment on  the  poor  man,  brings  on  the  rich  man  only  a  line 
easily  paid ;  yet  the  silence  concerning  law-reform  at  work- 
ing-class, meetings,  and  the  coldness  with  which  the  topic  is 
received  if  introduced,  imply  the  current  belief  that  a  better 
administration  of  justice  is  a  matter  which  touches  the  few 


884  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

rather  than  the  many.  But  besides  the  ways  in  which  they 
individually  suffer  from  time  to  time  from  injustices  for 
which  no  remedy  is  to  be  had,  the  people  at  large  suffer  uni- 
versally in  diffused  ways. 

For  maladministration  of  justice  raises,  very  considerably, 
the  cost  of  living  for  all.  Payments  to  laAvyers  form  one  of 
the  cm^rent  expenses  of  business  in  general.  Manufacture's 
and  merchants  and  traders  have  to  take  account  of  these  items 
in  their  outlays,  and  average  extra  profits  on  their  transac- 
tions have  to  be  made  to  meet  these  items.  Further,  there  are 
bad  debts — debts  which  are  crossed  off  from  ledgers  because, 
even  if  recoverable  at  all,  their  amounts  Avould  probably  be 
exceeded  by  the  costs  of  recovei'ing  them  ;  and  there  are  also 
occasional  losses  by  banki'uptcies,  made  needlessly  great  by 
the  involved  legal  process  of  liquidation.  These,  too,  ai-e 
items  of  expenditure  which  have  to  be  met  by  larger  profits 
on  the  commodities  sold.  Moreover,  the  rise  of  prices  necessi- 
tated in  these  several  ways  is  cunmlative.  The  producer  has 
to  charge  extra  to  the  wholesale  distributor ;  the  wholesale 
distributor  must  add  to  this  extra  charge  a  further  extra 
charge  to  the  retail  distributor ;  and  the  retail  distributor  must 
do  the  like  to  the  consumer.  Nor  after  observing  that  the 
effect  is  thus  b'iplicated  shall  we  fully  ajipreciate  the  total  rise 
caused.  For  on  recalling  the  truth  that  every  tax  on  a  com- 
modity increases  its  price  by  a  greater  amount  than  the 
amount  imposed,  because  of  the  extra  capital  employed  and 
business  transacted,  we  must  infer  that  similarly,  the  loss 
which  maladministration  of  justice  entails  on  the  pi'oducer, 
the  wholesale  dealer,  and  the  retailer,  raises  each  of  their 
prices  by  a  greater  amount  than  is  directly  needed  to  meet  it: 
all  three  of  these  enhancements  eventually  coming  on  the 
consumer. 

Not  by  tlie  r.iiscMl  ])rices  of  commodities  only,  d()(>s  the  con- 
sumer, and  e.spe(;ially  the  poor  consumer,  suffer  from  im])er- 
fect  enforcement  of  equity.  He  suiTers,  too,  in  the  rela- 
tive badness  of  the  things  he  buys.  It  is  needless  to  enlarge 
on  the  prevalence  of  adulteratioji.  All  it  concerns  us  here  to 
observe  is  tlint  the  nutritive  (piiilities  of  food  eaten  and  the 
wearing  fpialities  of  faltries  worn,  !n-e  diininish(Hl,  often  very 
greatly,  by  breaches  of  contract,  whicli  good  laws  well  admin- 


POSTSCUIPT.  385 

istcred  would  prevent.  Whoso  sells  as  the  thing  asked  for, 
that  which  is  in  part  some  other  thinj^,  breaks  the  tacit  agi'ee- 
ment  to  give  so  much  of  the  coiimiodity  for  so  nmch  money  ; 
and  a  legal  process  easily  available  ought  quickly  to  bring 
punishment  on  him  for  the  fraud. 

But  the  immediate  evils  resulting  from  a  system  which 
affords  inadequate  protection  against  aggressors,  are  not  the 
sole  evils — not,  indeed,  the  chief  evils.  A  further  evil  is  the 
multiplication  of  aggressions.  That  impunity  generates  con- 
fidence— that  the  man  who  has  committed  a  wrong  and  es- 
caped punishment  is  thereby  encouraged  to  commit  another 
wrong  is  a  trite  remark.  As  certain  as  it  is  tliat  j^ickpockets 
would  multiply  if  the  police  became  less  efficient  in  catching 
them,  and  that  tlie  cooking  of  joint-stock  companies'  accounts 
would  be  made  still  more  common  were  there  no  prospect  of 
possible  imprisonment  on  discovery ;  so  certain  is  it  that  in  all 
cases,  failure  of  justice  tempts  men  to  injustices.  Every  un- 
punished delinquency  has  a  family  of  delinquencies.  Those 
on  whom  is  urged  the  need  for  a  judicial  system  which  shall 
give  to  the  citizen  easy  remedies  for  injuries  suffered,  com- 
monly re-plj  that  the  amount  of  litigation  would  become 
enormous.  But  they  overlook  the  fact  that  with  facilities 
for  obtaining  remedies  the  occasions  for  seeking  remedies 
would  decrease.  As  it  is  clear  that  the  criminal  aggressor 
would  not  commit  a  crime  if  he  were  quite  certain  to  be 
caught  and  punished ;  so  it  is  clear  that  the  civil  aggressor 
would  not  do  the  inequitable  thing  he  is  tempted  to  do,  did  he 
know  that  the  aggrieved  person  Avould  without  difficulty  at 
once  obtain  justice.  So  that  intelligible  laws  and  a  good 
judicial  system,  would  advantage  everyone,  not  simply  by 
righting  him  when  wronged,  but  by  preventing  him  from 
being  wronged. 

And  then  there  has  to  be  added  the  remoter  but  no  less  cer- 
tain result — a  raised  moral  tone.  If  punishments  follow  trans- 
gressions with  certainty,  and  if  the  temptations  to  transgi-ess 
are,  by  the  prospect  of  certain  punishment,  more  effectually 
repressed,  such  temptations  must  diminish  in  strength.  Ener- 
gies directed  to  the  illegitimate  pursuit  of  advantages,  will  be 
turned  to  the  legitimate  pursuit  of  advantages ;  and  with  the 
decrease  of  those  antagonistic  relations  among  citizens  caused 


386  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

by  injustices,  by  the  fears  of  injustices,  and  by  the  precautions 
against  injvxstices,  will  go  a  growth  of  good  feeling  and  more 
sympatlietic  social  relations. 

Here,  then,  is  an  ample  field  for  efforts  that  must,  beyond 
all  question,  be  beneficent.  If,  as  above  shown,  more  evil 
than  good  eventually  results  from  measures  which  give  to  in- 
dividual citizens  benefits  which  their  individual  efforts  have 
given  them  no  claims  to ;  then,  contrariwise,  more  benefits 
than  evils,  if  not  pure  benefits,  will  eventually  result  from 
measiu-es  which  ensure  to  them  the  full  advantages  due  to 
their  efforts.  Enforcement  of  justice  is  nothing  else  than 
maintenance  of  the  conditions  to  life  as  carried  on  in  the  so- 
cial state.  And  the  more  completely  justice  is  enforced,  the 
higher  will  the  life  become. 


NOTES. 


NOTES  TO  CHAPTER  I. 

'  Of  various  testimonies  to  this,  one  of  the  most  striking  was  that 
given  by  Mr,  Charles  Mayo,  M.  B,,  of  New  College,  Oxford,  who,  hav- 
ing had  to  examine  the  drainage  of  Windsor,  found  "  that  in  a  previ- 
ous visitation  of  typhoid  fever,  the  poorest  and  lowest  part  of  the  town 
had  entirely  escaped,  while  the  epidemic  had  been  very  fatal  in  good 
houses.  The  difference  was  this,  that  while  the  better  houses  were  all 
connected  with  the  sewers,  the  poor  part  of  the  town  had  no  drains, 
but  made  use  of  cesspools  in  the  gardens.  And  this  is  by  no  means 
an  isolated  instance." 

2  Debates,  Times,  February  12,  1853. 

3  Letter  in  Daily  News,  Nov.  28,  1851. 

*  Eecommendation  of  a  Coroner's  Jury,  Times,  March  26,  1850. 
'  Revue  des  Deux  3Iondes,  February  15,  1872. 

*  Journal  of  Mental  Science,  January,  1872. 
'  Boyle's  Borneo,  p.  116. 


NOTES  TO   CHAPTER  II. 


*  Daily  paper,  January  22,  1849. 

*  The  Theocratic  Philosophy  of  English  History,  vol.  i.  p.  49. 

3  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  289. 

4  Ibid^  vol.  ii.  p.  681. 

'"  La  Main  de  Vllomme  et  le  Doigt  de  Dieu  dans  les  malheurs  de  la 
France.  Par  J.  C,  Ex-aumonier  dans  I'armee  auxiliaire.  Paris,  Dou- 
ninl  &  Cie.,  1871. 

*  The  Roman  and  the  Teuton,  pp.  339-40. 

'  Short  Studies  on  Great  Subjects,  vol.  i.  p.  11. 
8  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  22. 
»  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  24. 

337 


388  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

'» Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  15. 

"  History  of  England,  vol.  v.  p.  70. 

'=  Ibid.,  vol.  V.  p.  108. 

>3  Ibid.,  vol.  V.  p.  lOy. 

'*  /SAor<  Studies  on  Great  Subjects,  p.  59. 

'^  2'Ae  Limits  of  Exact  Science  as  applied  to  History,  p.  20. 

'« Ibid.,  p.  22. 

"  Alton  Locke,  new  edition,  preface,  p.  xxi. 

'8  Ibid.,  pp.  xxiii.  xxiv. 

"  /fiiifZ.,  preface  (1854),  p.  xxvii. 


NOTES  TO   CHAPTER  V. 


'  Thomson's  Neiv  Zealand,  vol.  i.  p.  80. 

*  Hallam's  Middle  Ages,  ch.  ix.,  part  ii. 

3  Principles  of  Surgery.     5th  ed.  p.  434. 

4  British  and  Foreign  Medico-Chirurgical  Review,  January,  1870, 
p.  103. 

6  Ibid.,  p.  lOG. 

«  British  Medical  Journal,  August  20th,  1870.  I  took  the  precau- 
tion of  calling  on  Mr.  Hutchinson  to  verify  the  extract  given,  and  to 
learn  from  him  what  he  meant  by  "severe."  1  found  that  he  meant 
simply  recognizable.  He  described  to  me  the  mode  in  wliich  he  had 
made  his  estimate ;  and  it  was  clearly  a  mode  which  tended  rather  to- 
wards exaggeration  of  the  evil  than  otherwise.  I  also  learned  from 
him  that  in  the  great  mass  of  cases  those  who  have  recognizable  syph- 
ilitic taint  pass  lives  that  are  but  little  impaired  by  it. 

''A  Treatise  07i  Syphilis,  hj  Dr.  E.  Lancereaux.  Vol.  ii.  p.  120. 
This  testimony  I  quote  from  the  work  itself,  and  have  similarly  taken 
from  the  original  sources  tlic  statements  of  Skey,  Simon,  Wyatt,  Acton, 
ns  well  as  the  liritit^h  and  Foreign  Med ico-Chirurgical  licview  and 
British  Medical  Journal.  The  rest,  with  various  others,  will  be  found 
in  the  jianiphlot  of  Dr.  C.  P».  Taylor  on  The  Contagious  Disrasrs  Arf.f. 

*  Professor  Sheldon  Amos.  Sec  also  his  late  important  work.  A 
Systematic  Vieiv  of  the  Science  of  Jurispi-udcnre,  pp.  11!),  303,  512, 
and  514. 

»  (Quoted  by  Nasse.  The  Agricultural  Community  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  &.(:.,  English  translation,  p.  94. 

'"  In  one  case,  " out  of  thirty  married  conples,  thoro  was  not  one 
man  then  living  with  his  own  wife,  and  some  of  them  luid  exchanged 
wives  two  or  three  times  since  their   entrance."     This,  ahmg  with 


NOTES.  389 

various  kindred  illustrations,  will  be  found  in  tracts  on  the  Poor-Law, 
by  a  late  uncle  of  mine,  the  Rev.  Thomas  Spencer,  of  Hinton  Char- 
terhouse, who  was  chairman  of  the  Bath  Union  during  its  first  six 
years. 


NOTES   TO   CHAPTER  VI. 

*  Warton's  History  of  English  Poetry,  vol.  ii.,  p.  57,  note. 
^  Burton's  Scinde,  vol.  ii.,  p.  13. 

^  Speke's  Journal  of  Discovery  of  Source  of  the  Nile,  p.  85. 

*  See  pp.  71  and  115. 

*  iSumaiary  of  the  Moral  Statistics  of  England  and  Wales.  By 
Joseph  Fletcher,  Esq.,  one  of  Her  Majesty's  Inspectors  of  Schools. 

*  Reeves's  History  of  English  Law,  vol.  i.,  pp.  34-36.  Second  edi- 
tion. 

■"  Brentano's  Introduction  to  English  Oilds,  p.  cxcv. 
,  *  Lubbock's  Prehistoric  Times,  p.  344.     First  edition. 
9  Mrs.  Atkinson's  Recollections  of  Tartar  Steppes,  p.  220. 
^"  Quoted  in  M'Lennan's  Primitive  Marriage,  p.  187. 
"  Burton's  History  of  Sindh,  p.  244. 

12  Wright's  Essays  on  ArchcBology,  vol.  ii.,  pp.  175-6. 

13  Ibid.,  vol.  ii.  p.  184. 

"  Only  four  copies  of  this  psalter  are  known  to  exist.  The  copy 
from  which  I  make  this  description  is  contained  in  the  splendid  col- 
lection of  Mr.  Henry  Huth. 

'^  Kinder-  und  Hausmdrcheji,  by  William  and  James  Grimm. 
Larger  edition  (1870),  pp.  140-2. 


NOTES  TO  CHAPTER  VII. 

'  M.  Dunoyer,  quoted  in  Mill's  Political  Economy.  , 

*  Mill's  Political  Economy. 
3  Mill's  Political  Economy. 

*  Translation  of  Lanfrey's  History  of  Napoleon  the  First,  vol.  ii., 
p.  25. 

» Ibid.,  vol.  ii.,  p.  442. 

8  M.  Lanfrey  sets  down  the  loss  of  the  French  alone,  from  1802  on- 
wards, at  nearly  two  millions.  This  may  be  an  over-estimate ;  though, 
judging  from  the  immense  armies  raised  in  France,  such  a  total  seems 
quite  possible.  The  above  computation  of  the  losses  to  European  na- 
tions in  general,  has  been  made  for  me  by  adding  up  the  numbers  of 


390  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

killed  and  wounded  in  the  successive  battles,  as  furnished  by  such  state- 
ments as  are  accessible.    The  total  is  1,500,000.    This  number  has  to  bo 
greatly  increased  by  including  losses  not  specified — the  number  of  killed 
and  wounded  on  one  side  only,  being  given  in  some  cases.    It  has  to  be 
further  increased  by  including  losses  in  numerous  minor  engagements, 
the  particulars  of  which  are  unknown.    And  it  has  to  be  again  increased 
by  allowance  for  under-statement  of  his  losses,  which  was  habitual 
with  Napoleon.     Though  the  total,  raised  by  these  various  additions 
probably  to  something  over  two  millions,  includes  killed  and  wounded, 
from  which  last  class  a  large  deduction  has  to  be  made  for  tlie  num- 
ber who  recovered ;  yet  it  takes  no  account  of  the  loss  by  disease. 
This  may  be  set  down  as  greater  in  amount  than  that  which  battles 
caused.     (Thus,  according  to  Kolb,  the  British  lost  in  Spain  three 
times  as  many  by  disease  as  by  the  enemy ;  and  in  the  expedition  to 
Walcheren,  seventeen  times  as  many.)    So  that  the  loss  by  killed  and 
wounded  and  by  disease,  for  all  the   European  nations  during  the 
Napoleonic  campaigns,  is  probably  much  understated  at  two   mill- 
ions. 

'  Burton's  Ooa,  &c.,  p.  167. 

*  See  Twecdie's  System  of  Practical  Medicine,  vol.  v.  pp.  G2-C9. 

'  Dr.  IMaclean  :  see  Times,  Jan.  6,  1873. 

'"  Report  on  the  Progress  and  Condition  of  the  Royal  Oardeiis  at 
Kew,  1870,  p.  5. 

"  My  attention  was  drawn  to  this  case  by  one  who  has  had  experi- 
ence in  various  government  services ;  and  he  ascribed  this  obstructive- 
ness  in  the  medical  service  to  the  putting  of  young  surgeons  under 
old.  The  remark  is  significant,  and  has  far-roaching  implications. 
Putting  young  officials  under  old  is  a  rule  of  all  services — civil,  mili- 
tary, naval,  or  other ;  and  in  all  services,  necessarily  has  the  elfect  of 
placing  the  advanced  ideas  and  wider  knowledge  of  a  new  generation, 
under  control  by  the  ignorance  and  V)igotry  of  a  generation  to  which 
change  has  become  repugnant.  This,  which  is  a  seemingly  ineradicable 
vice  of  public  organizations,  is  a  vice  to  which  private  organizations 
are  far  less  liable ;  since,  in  the  life-and-death  struggle  of  competi- 
tion, merit,  even  if  young,  takes  the  place  of  demerit,  even  if  old. 

'*  Let  me  hero  add  what  sin-ins  to  l)e  a  iiol-imj)<)ssible  cause,  or  at 
any  rate  part-cause,  <>f  the  failure.  The  clue  is  given  by  a  letter  in 
tlio  TimcH,  signed  "Landowner,"  dating  Tollesbury,  Essex,  Aug.  2, 
1872.  He  l)oiight  "ten  fine  young  steers,  perfectly  free  from  any 
symptom  of  disease,"  and  "  passed  sound  by  t  he  inspector  of  foreign 
stock."  They  were  attacked  by  foot  juid  inoutli  disease  afirr  live  (hiys 
passed  in  fresh   paddocks  willi  the  Ijcst  food.     On  iiKpiiry  lie   found 


NOTES.  391 

that  foreign  stock,  however  healthy,  " '  mostly  all  go  down  with  it ' 
after  the  passage."  And  then,  in  proposing  a  remedy,  he  gives  us  a 
fact  of  which  he  does  not  seem  to  recognize  the  meaning,  lie  sug- 
gests, "that,  instead  of  the  present  quarantine  at  Harwich,  which  con- 
sists in  driving  the  stock  from  the  steamer  into  pens  for  a  limifed 
number  of  hours,"  &c.,  &c.  If  this  description  of  the  quarantine  is 
correct,  the  spread  of  the  disease  is  accounted  for.  Every  new  drove 
of  cattle  is  kept  for  hours  in  an  infected  pen.  Unless  the  successive 
droves  have  been  all  healthy  (which  the  very  institution  of  the  quaran- 
tine implies  that  they  have  not  been)  some  of  them  have  left  in  the  pen 
diseased  matter  from  their  mouths  and  feet.  Even  if  disinfectants 
are  used  after  each  occupation,  the  risk  is  great — the  disinfection  is 
almost  certain  to  be  inadequate.  Nay,  even  if  the  pen  is  adequately 
disinfected  every  time,  yet  if  there  is  not  also  a  complete  disinfec- 
tion of  the  landing  appliances,  the  landing-stage,  and  the  track  to 
the  pen,  the  disease  will  be  commimicated.  No  wonder  healthy  cattle 
" '  mostly  go  down  with  it '  after  the  passage."  The  quarantine  regu- 
lations, if  they  are  such  as  here  implied,  might  properly  be  called 
"  regulations  for  the  better  diffusion  of  cattle-diseases." 

'^  Fischel's  English  Constitution,  translated  by  Shee,  p.  487. 

'*  See  Report  of  the  Committee  on  Public  Accounts,  nominated  on 
7  Feb.,  1873. 

*^  Tiynes,  April  3,  1873  (I  add  this  during  the  re-revision  of  these 
pages  for  permanent  publication,  as  also  the  reference  to  the  telegraph- 
expenditure.    Hence  the  incongruities  of  the  dates). 


NOTE  TO   CHAPTER  VIII. 
'  " Decline  and  Fall"  &c.,  chap.  ii. 


NOTES  TO  CHAPTER  IX. 

■  Burton's  Aheohuta,  vol.  i.  pp.  43,  44. 
'  Burton's  History  of  Scotland,  vol.  ii.  pp.  281-2. 
^  I  make  this  statement  on  the  authority  of  a  letter  read  to  me  at 
the  time  by  an  Indian  officer,  written  by  a  brother  oCicer  in  India. 

*  Hawkesworth's  Voyages,  vol.  i.  p.  573. 
^  Forster's  Observations,  &c.,  p.  406. 

*  Parkyns's  Abyssinia,  vol.  ii.  p.  431. 

'  Cruickshank,  Eighteen  Years  on  the  Oold  Coast  of  Africa,  vol.  i. 
p.  100. 


302  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

®  Companions  of  Columbus,  p.  115. 

3  Times,  Jan.  22,  1873. 

10  Times,  Dec.  23,  1872. 

»'  Lancet,  Dec.  28,  1872. 

1-  Essays  in  Criticism,  p.  12. 

'»  crimes,  Jan.  22,  1873. 

"  Most  readers  of  logic  will,  I  suppose,  be  surprised  on  missing 
from  the  above  sentence  the  name  of  Sir  W.  Hamilton.  They  will  not 
be  more  surprised  than  I  was  myself  on  recently  learning  that  Mr. 
George  Bentham's  work,  Outline  of  a  New  System  of  Logic,  was  pub- 
lished six  years  before  the  earliest  of  Sir  W.  Hamilton's  logical  writ- 
ings, and  that  Sir  W.  Hamilton  reviewed  it.  The  case  adds  another  to 
the  multitudinous  ones  in  which  the  world  credits  the  wrong  man ; 
and  persists  in  crediting  him  in  defiance  of  evidence.  [In  the  number 
of  the  Contemporary  Revieiv  following  that  in  which  this  note  origi- 
nally appeared.  Professor  Baynes,  blaming  me  for  my  incaution  in  thus 
asserting  Mr.  Bentham's  claim,  contended  for  the  claim  of  Sir  W. 
Hamilton  and  denied  the  validity  of  Mr.  Bentham's.  The  month 
after,  the  question  was  taken  up  by  Professor  Jevons,  who,  differing 
entirely  from  Professor  Baynes,  gave  reasons  for  assigning  the  credit 
of  the  discovery  to  IMr.  Bentham.  Considering  that  Professor  Baynes, 
both  as  pupil  of  Sir  W.  Hamilton  and  as  expositor  of  his  developed 
logical  system,  is  obviously  liable  to  be  biassed  in  his  favour,  and  that, 
contrariwise.  Professor  Jevons  is  not  by  his  antecedents  committed  on 
behalf  of  either  claimant,  it  may  I  think,  be  held  that,  leaving  out 
other  reasons,  his  opinion  is  the  most  trustworthy.  Other  reasons  jus- 
tify this  estimate.  The  assumption  that  Sir  W.  Hamilton,  when  he 
reviewed  Mr.  Bentham's  work,  did  not  read  as  far  as  the  page  on 
which  the  discovery  in  question  is  indicated,  though  admissible  as  a 
defence,  cannot  be  regarded  as  a  very  satisfactory  ground  for  a  coun- 
ter-claim. That  in  Mr.  Bcntliam's  work  the  doctrine  is  but  briefly  in- 
dicated, whereas  by  Sir  W.  Hamilton  it  was  (.'laboratoly  developed,  is 
an  objection  sufTiciently  met  by  pointing  out  that  Mr,  Bentham's  work 
is  an  "  Outline  of  a  New  System  of  Logic ; "  and  that  in  it  ho  has  said 
enough  to  show  that  if,  instead  of  being  led  into  another  career,  lio 
had  become  a  professional  logician,  the  outline  would  iiavc  been  ade- 
quately filled  in.  While  these  notes  are  still  .standing  in  type, 
I'rnf.  Baynes  has  pnblisliod  (in  the  Contemporary  Review  for  July, 
1H7:')  a  rejoinder  to  Prof.  Jevons.  One  who  reads  it  critically  may,  I 
tliiiik,  find  in  it  more  evidence  against,  than  in  favour  of,  the  conclu- 
sion drawn.  Prof.  Baynes'  partiality  will  be  clearly  seen  on  conii)ar- 
ing  the  way  in  which  he  interprets  Sir  W.  Iljuniltoirs  a(  ts,  witli  the 


NOTES.  393 

way  in  which  he  interprets  Mr.  Bentham's  acts.  He  thinks  it  quite  a 
proper  supposition  that  Sir  W.  Hamilton  did  not  read  the  part  of  Mr. 
Bentham's  work  containing  the  doctrine  in  question.  jMeanwhile,  he 
dwells  much  on  the  fact  that  during  Sir  W.  Hamilton's  life  Mr.  Ben- 
tham  never  made  any  claim;  saying — "The  indifference  it  displays 
js  incredible  had  Mr.  Bentham  really  felt  himself  entitled  to  the 
honour  publicly  given  to  another : "  the  implication  being  that  Mr. 
Bentham  was  of  necessity  cognizant  of  the  controversy.  Thus  it  is 
reasonable  to  suppose  that  Sir  W.  Hamilton  read  only  part  of  a  work 
he  reviewed  on  his  own  special  topic ;  but  "  incredible  "  that  Mr.  Ben- 
tham should  not  have  read  certain  letters  in  the  Athenceum  ! — the  fact 
being  that,  as  I  have  learnt  from  Mr.  Bentham,  he  knew  nothing  about 
the  matter  till  his  attention  was  called  to  it.  Clearly,  such  a  way  of 
estimating  probabilities  is  not  conducive  to  a  fair  judgment.  Prof. 
Baynes'  unfairness  of  judgment  is,  I  think,  sufficiently  shown  by  one 
of  his  own  sentences,  in  which  he  says  of  Mr.  Bentham  that,  "  while 
he  constantly  practises  the  quantification  of  the  predicate,  he  never 
appears  to  have  realized  it  as  a  principle."  To  an  unconcerned  ob- 
server, it  seems  a  strong  assumption  that  one  who  not  only  "  con- 
stantly practises"  the  method,  but  who  even  warns  the  student  against 
errors  caused  by  neglect  of  it,  should  have  no  consciousness  of  the 
"  principle  "  involved.  And  I  am  not  alone  in  thinking  this  a  strong 
assumption :  the  remark  was  made  to  me  by  a  distinguished  mathe- 
matician who  was  reading  Prof.  Baynes'  rejoinder.  But  the  weakness 
of  Prof.  Baynes'  rejoinder  is  best  shown  by  its  inconsistency.  Prof. 
Baynes  contends  that  Sir  W.  Hamilton  "  had  been  acquainted  with  the 
occasional  use  of  a  quantified  predicate  by  writers  on  logic  "  earlier 
than  Mr.  Bentham ;  and  Prof.  Baynes  speaks  of  Mr.  Bentliam  as  liav- 
ing  done  no  more  than  many  before  him.  But  he  also  says  of  Sir  W. 
Hamilton  that,  '-had  he  at  the  time,  therefore,  looked  into  Mr.  Ben- 
tham's eighth  and  ninth  chapters,  the  mere  use  of  a  quantified  predi- 
cate would  have  been  no  novelty  to  him,  although,  as  I  have  said,  it 
might  have  helped  to  stimulate  his  speculations  on  the  subject."  So 
that  though  Mr.  Bentham  did  not  carry  the  doctrine  further  than 
previous  logicians  had  done,  yet  what  he  wrote  about  it  was  calculated 
"  to  stimulate  "  "  speculations  on  the  subject "  in  a  way  that  they  had 
not  been  stimulated  by  the  writings  of  previous  logicians.  That  is. 
Prof.  Baynes  admits  in  one  part  of  his  argument  what  he  denies  in 
another.  One  further  point  only  will  I  name.  Prof.  Baynes  says : — 
"  Professor  De  Morgan's  emphatic  rejection  of  Mr.  Bentham's  claim, 
after  examining  the  relevant  chapters  of  his  'Outline,'  is  in  striking 
contrast  to  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer's  easy-going  acceptance  of  it."    Now 


394  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

though,  to  many  readers,  this  will  seem  a  telling  comparison,  yet  to 
those  who  know  that  Prof.  De  Morgan  was  one  of  the  parties  to  the 
controversy,  and  had  his  own  claims  to  establish,  the  comparison  will 
not  seem  so  telling.  To  me,  however,  and  to  many  who  have  remarked 
the  perversity  of  Prof.  De  Morgan's  judgment,  his  verdict  on  the  mat- 
ter, even  were  he  perfectly  unconcerned,  will  go  for  but  little.  Who- 
ever will  take  the  trouble  to  refer  to  the  Athenceum  for  November  5, 
1864,  p.  600,  and  after  reading  a  sentence  which  he  there  quotes,  will 
.  look  at  either  the  title  of  the  chapter  it  is  taken  from  or  the  sentence 
which  succeeds  it,  will  be  amazed  that  such  recklessness  of  misrepre- 
sentation could  be  shown  by  a  conscientious  man ;  and  will  be  there- 
after but  little  inclined  to  abide  by  Prof.  De  Morgan's  authority  on 
matters  like  that  here  in  question.] 

'*  These  words  are  translated  for  me  from  Die  EntwickJung  der 
Naturwisseiischaft  in  den  letzen  Junfxmdzwanzig  Jahren.  By  Profes- 
sor Dr.  Ferdinand  Cohn.     Breslau,  1872. 

'*  I  am  told  that  his  reasons  for  this  valuation  are  more  fully  given 
at  p.  143. 

"  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes,  1  Fevrier,  1873,  p.  731. 

'8  (Euvres  de  P.  L.  Courier  (Paris,  1845),  p.  304. 

'^  Histoire  des  Sciences  et  des  Savants,  <&c. 

2"  Before  leaving  the  question  of  Academies  and  their  influences, 
let  me  call  attention  to  a  fact  which  makes  me  doubt  whether  as  a 
judge  of  style,  considered  simply  as  correct  or  incorrect,  an  Academy 
is  to  be  trusted.  INfr.  Arnold,  insisting  on  propriety  of  expression,  and 
giving  instances  of  bad  taste  among  our  writers,  due,  as  he  thinks,  to 
absence  of  Academic  control,  tacitly  asserts  that  an  Academy,  if  we 
had  one,  would  condemn  the  passages  he  quotes  as  deserving  condem- 
nation, and,  by  implication,  would  apfirove  the  passages  he  quotes  as 
worthy  of  approval.  Ijct  us  see  to  what  Mr.  Arnold  awards  his  praise. 
He  says : — 

"  To  illustrate  whnt  I  menn  In-  nn  example.  Addison,  writing  as  a  moral- 
ist on  fixedncsH  in  relijiious  faitli,  says: — 

" '  Those  who  deli^'lit  in  rcadinf;  books  of  controversy  do  very  seldom  ar- 
rive at  a  fixed  and  settled  habit  of  faith.  Tlie  doubt  which  wiw  laid  revives 
atrain,  and  shows  itself  in  now  (lillieidtit's;  and  that  f,'eiierally  fur  this  reason, 
— because  the  mind,  which  is  perpetually  to.ssed  in  controversies  and  disputes, 
is  apt  to  forpet  the  reasons  wliidi  liad  onee  set  it  at  rest,  and  to  he  disquieted 
witli  any  former  j)eriilexity  wlien  it  ajipears  in  a  new  sliajie,  or  is  started  by  a 
ditfi-Tent  liand.' 

"  It  may  be  Hai<l,  tliat  is  classical  En^disli,  perfect  in  lucidity,  measure,  and 
propriety.  I  make  no  objection  ;  but  in  my  turn,  1  say  that  the  idea  expressed 
is  perfectly  trite  and  barren,"  &c.,  &c. 


NOTES.  '  395 

In  Mr.  Arnold's  estimate  of  Addison's  thought  I  coincide  entirely ; 
but  I  cannot  join  him  in  applauding  the  "classical  English"  convey- 
ing the  thought.  Indeed,  1  am  not  a  little  astonished  that  one  whose 
taste  in  style  is  proved  by  his  own  writing  to  be  so  good,  and  who  to 
his  poems  especially  gives  a  sculpturesque  finish,  should  have  quoted, 
not  simply  without  condemnation  but  with  tacit  eulogy,  a  passage  full 
of  faults.     Jjct  us  examine  it  critically,  part  by  part.  How 

shall  we  interpret  into  thought  the  words  "  arrive  at  a  .  .  .  habit "  ? 
A  habit  is  produced.  But  "arrival"  implies,  not  production  of  a 
thing,  but  coming  up  to  a  thing  that  pre-exists,  as  at  the  end  of  a 
journey.  What,  again,  shall  we  say  of  the  phrase,  "  a  fixed  and  settled 
habit "  %  Habit  is  a  course  of  action  characterized  by  constancy,  as 
distinguished  from  courses  of  action  that  are  inconstant.  If  the  word 
"settled"  were  unobjectionable,  we  might  define  habit  as  a  settled 
course  of  action;  and  on  substituting  for  the  word  this  equivalent, 
the  phrase  would  read  "  a  fixed  and  settled  settled  course  of  action." 
Obviously  the  word  habit  itself  conveys  the  whole  notion;  and  if  there 
needs  a  word  to  indicate  degree,  it  should  be  a  word  suggesting  force, 
not  suggesting  rest.  The  reader  is  to  be  impressed  with  the  strength 
of  a  tendency  in  something  active,  not  with  the  firmness  of  something 
passive,  as  by  the  words  "  fixed  and  settled."  And  then  why  "  fixed 
rtW(^  settled  " f  Making  no  objection  to  the  words  as  having  inappli- 
cable meanings,  there  is  the  objection  that  one  of  them  would  suffice : 
surely  whatever  is  fixed  must  be  settled.  Passing  to  the  next 

sentence,  we  are  arrested  by  a  conspicuous  fault  in  its  first  clause — 
"  The  doubt  which  was  laid  revives  again."  To  revive  is  to  live  again  ; 
so  that  the  literal  meaning  of  the  clause  is  "the  doubt  which  was  laid 
lives  again  again."  In  the  following  line  there  is  nothing  objection- 
able ;  but  at  the  end  of  it  we  come  to  another  pleonasm.  The  words 
run : — "  and  that  generally  for  this  reason, — because  the  mind  .  .  ." 
The  idea  is  fully  conveyed  by  the  words,  "  and  that  generally  because 
the  mind."  The  words  "  for  this  reason  "  are  equivalent  to  an  ad- 
ditional "  because."  So  that  we  have  here  another  nonsensical  dupli- 
cation. Going  a  little  further  there  rises  the  question — Why  "contro- 
versies a7id  disputes  "  ?  '  Dispute '  is  given  in  dictionaries  as  one  of 
the  synonyms  of  'controversy';  and  though  it  may  be  rightly  held  to 
have  not  quite  the  same  meaning,  any  additional  meaning  it  has  docs 
not  aid,  but  rather  hinders,  the  thought  of  the  reader.  Though, 
where  special  attention  is  to  be  drawn  to  a  certain  element  of  the 
thought,  two  almost  synonymous  words  may  fitly  be  used  to  make  the 
reader  dwell  longer  on  that  element,  yet  where  his  attention  is  to  be 
drawn  to  another  element  of  the  thought  (as  here  to  the  effect  of  con- 


396  THE  STUDY   OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

troversy  on  the  mind),  there  is  no  gain,  but  a  loss,  in  stopping  him  to 
interpret  a  second  word  if  the  first  suffices.  One  more  fault  remains. 
The  mind  is  said  "  to  be  disquieted  with  any  former  perplexity  when 
it  appears  in  a  new  shape,  or  is  started  by  a  dift'erent  hand."  This 
portion  of  the  sentence  is  doubly  defective.  The  two  metaphors  are 
incongruous.  Appearing  in  a  shape,  as  a  ghost  might  be  supposed  to 
do,  conveys  one  kind  of  idea ;  and  started  by  a  hand-,  as  a  horse  or  a 
hound  might  be,  conveys  a  conflicting  kind  of  idea.  This  defect, 
however,  is  less  serious  than  the  other ;  namely,  the  unfitness  of  the 
second  metaphor  for  giving  a  concrete  form  to  the  abstract  idea. 
How  is  it  possible  to  '  start '  a  perplexity  ?  '  Perplexity,'  by  deriva- 
tion and  as  commonly  used,  involves  the  thought  of  entanglement 
and  arrest  of  motion;  while  to  'start'  a  tiling  is  to  set  it  in  motion. 
So  that  whereas  the  mind  is  to  be  represented  as  enmeshed,  and 
thus  impeded  in  its  movements,  the  metaphor  used  to  describe  its 
state  is  one  suggesting  the  freedom  and  rapid  motion  of  that  which 
enmeshes  it. 

Even  were  these  hyper-criticisms,  it  might  be  said  that  they  are 
rightly  to  be  made  on  a  passage  which  is  considered  a  model  of  style. 
But  they  are  not  hyper-criticisms.  To  show  that  the  defects  indicated 
are  grave,  it  only  needs  to  read  one  of  the  sentences  without  its 
tautologies,  thus : — "  The  doubt  which  was  laid  revives,  and  shows  it- 
self in  new  difiioulties ;  jind  that  generally  because  the  miTid  which  is 
perpetually  tossed  in  controversies  is  apt  to  forget  the  reasons  which 
had  once  set  it  at  rest  "  &c.  &c.  Omitting  the  six  superfluous  words 
unquestionably  makes  the  sentence  clearer — adds  to  its  force  without 
taking  from  its  meaning.  Nor  would  removal  of  the  other  excres- 
cences, and  substitution  of  appropriate  words  for  those  which  are 
unfit,  fail  similarly  to  improve  the  rest  of  the  passage. 

And  now  is  it  not  strange  that  two  sentences  which  Mr.  Arnold 
admits  to  be  "classical  English,  perfect  in  lucidity,  measure,  and 
propriety,"  should  contain  so  many  defects :  some  of  thouj,  indeed, 
deserving  a  stronger  wonl  of  disapproval?  It  is  true  lli;it  !in!ilysis 
discloses  occasional  errors  in  tiie  sentences  of  nearly  all  writers — some 
due  to  inadvertence,  some  to  confusion  of  thought.  Doubtless,  from 
my  own  books  exam2iles  could  l)e  taken ;  and  I  should  think  it  unfair 
to  blame  any  one  for  now  and  tlien  tripping.  I?ut  in  a  passage  of 
which  the  diction  seems  "perfect"  to  one  who  Avould  like  to  have 
stylo  refined  by  authoritative  criticism,  we  may  expect  entire  con- 
formity to  the  laws  of  correct  expression :  and  may  not  unnaturally 
1)0  surprised  to  find  so  many  deviations  from  tho.'io  laws.  Pos- 

sibly, indeed,  it  will  be  alleged  that  the  faults  are  not  in  Atldison's 


NOTES.  397 

English,  but  that  I  lack  the  needful  apsthctic  perception.  Having, 
when  young,  effectually  resisted  that  classical  culture  which  Mr. 
Arnold  thinks  needful,  I  may  bo  blind  to  the  beauties  he  perceives; 
and  my  undisciplined  taste  may  lead  me  to  condemn  as  defects  what 
are,  in  fact,  perfections.  Knowing  absolutely  nothing  of  the  master- 
pieces of  ancient  literature  in  the  original,  and  very  little  in  trans- 
lation, I  suppose  I  must  infer  that  a  familiarity  with  them  equal  to 
Mr.  Arnold's  familiarity,  would  have  given  me  a  capacity  for  admiring 
these  traits  of  style  which  he  admires.  Perhaps  redundance  of 
epithets  would  have  afforded  me  pleasure ;  perhaps  I  should  have 
been  delighted  by  duplications  of  meaning ;  perhaps  from  inconsistent 
metaphors  I  might  have  received  some  now-unimaginable  gratifica- 
tion. Being,  however,  without  any  guidance  save  that  yielded  by 
Mental  Science — having  been  led  by  analysis  of  thought  to  conclude 
that  in  writing,  words  must  be  so  chosen  and  arranged  as  to  convey 
ideas  with  the  greatest  ease,  precision,  and  vividness;  and  having 
drawn  the  corollaries  that  superfluous  words  should  be  struck  out, 
that  words  which  have  associations  at  variance  with  the  propositions 
to  be  set  forth  should  be  avoided,  and  that  there  should  be  used  no 
misleading  figures  of  speech ;  I  have  acquired  a  dislike  to  modes  of 
expression  like  these  jMr.  Arnold  regai-ds  as  perfect  in  their  propriety. 
Almost  converted  though  I  have  been  by  his  eloquent  advocacy  of 
Culture,  as  he  understands  it,  1  must  confess  that,  now  I  see  what  he 
applauds,  my  growing  faith  receives  a  rude  check.  While  recogniz- 
ing my  unregenerate  state,  and  while  admitting  that  I  have  only 
Psychology  and  Logic  to  help  me,  I  am  perverse  enough  to  rejoice 
that  we  have  not  had  an  Academy  ;  since,  judging  from  the  evidence 
Mr.  Arnold  affords,  it  would,  among  other  mischievous  acts,  have 
further  raised  the  estimate  of  a  style  which  even  now  is  unduly 
praised. 

21  Culture  and  Anarchy,  p.  16. 

22  Ibid.,  pp.  130—140. 


NOTE   TO   CHAPTER  X. 


'  Shortly  after  the  first  publication  of  this  chapter,  I  met  with  a 
kindred  instance.  At  a  Co-operative  Congress  : — "  Mr.  Head  (of  the 
firm  of  Fox.  Head,  &  Co.,  Middlesbrough)  *  *  *  remarked  that  he 
had  thrown  his  whole  soul  during  the  last  six  years  into  the  carrying 
out  of  the  principle  involved  in  the  Industrial  Partnership  at  'Middles- 
brough with  wliich  he  was  connected.  In  that  Industrial  Partner- 
ship there  was  at  present  no  arrangement  for  the  workmen  to  invest 


398  THE  STUDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

their  saving?.  A  clause  to  give  that  opportunity  to  the  workmen 
was  at  first  put  into  the  articles  of  agreement,  but,  as  there  was  only 
one  instance  during  three  years  of  a  workman  under  the  firm  apply- 
ing to  invest  his  savings,  that  clause  was  witlidrawn.  The  firm 
consequently  came  to  the  conclusion  that  this  part  of  their  scheme 
was  far  ahead  of  the  time." — Times,  April  15,  1873. 


NOTES   TO   CHAPTER   XL 

*  Froude,  Short  Studies  on  Great  Subjects,  Second  Series,  1871, 
p.  480. 

«  Ibid.,  p.  483. 
3  Ibid.,  pp.  483-4. 

*  Daily  papers,  Feb.  7,  1873. 

»  Times  and  Post,  Feb.  11,  1873. 
6  Times,  Nov.  25,  1872. 
'  Ibid.,  Nov.  27,  1872. 

*  Craik,  in  Picf.  JJisf.,  vol.  iv.,  p.  853. 
9  Ibid.,  vol.  iv.,  p.  853. 

'"  When,  in  dealing  with  the  vitiation  of  evidence,  I  before  re- 
ferred to  the  logislaticn  here  named.  I  commented  on  the  ready 
acceptance  of  those  one-sided  statements  made  to  justify  such  legis- 
lation, in  contrast  with  the  contempt  for  those  multitudinous  proofs 
that  gross  abuses  would  inevitably  result  from  the  arrangements 
made.  Since  that  passage  was  written,  there  has  been  a  startling 
justification  of  it.  A  murder  has  been  committed  at  Lille  by  a  gang 
of  sham-detectives  (one  being  a  government  employS);  and  tlie  trial 
has  brought  out  the  fact  that  for  the  last  three  years  the  people  of 
Lille  have  been  subject  to  an  organized  terrorism  wliich  has  grown 
out  of  the  system  of  prostitute-inspection.  Though,  during  these 
three  years,  five  hundred  women  are  said  by  one  of  these  criminals  to 
have  fallen  into  their  clutches — though  the  men  have  been  black- 
mailed and  tiie  women  outraged  to  this  immense  extent,  yet  tlie 
practice  went  on  for  the  reason  (obvious  enougii,  one  would  have 
thought,  to  need  no  jiroof  by  illustration)  tliat  those  ajfgrieved  pre- 
ferred to  submit  rather  than  endanger  their  cluiraclers  I)y  complain- 
ing ;  and  the  practice  would  doubtless  have  gone  on  still  but  for  tlio 
murder  of  one  of  the  victims.  To  some  this  case  will  carry  convic- 
tion :  probably  not,  however,  to  those  who,  in  pursuance  of  what 
they  are  jjleased  to  call  "practical  legislation,"  prefer  an  induction 
baseil  on  a  HInc  Wnok  to  an  induction  bused  on  Universal  History. 

»  See  case  in  7'imeH,  Dec.  11,  1873. 


NOTES.  390 


NOTES  TO  CHAPTER  XII. 

1  Journey  through  Central  and  Eastern  Arabia,  vol.  ii.  p.  370. 

9  Ibid.,  vol.  ii.  p.  22. 

8  Lubbock's  Prehistoric  Times.    Second  edition,  p.  442. 

*  Journey  through  Central  and  Eastern  Arabia,  vol.  ii.  p.  11. 

8  Five  Years'  Residence  at  Nepaul.  By  Capt.  Thomas  Smith. 
Vol.  i.  p.  168.  

NOTES  TO  CHAPTER  XIV. 

'  Probably  most  readers  will  conclude  that  in  this,  and  in  the 
preceding  section,  I  am  simply  carrying  out  the  views  of  Mr.  Darwin 
in  their  applications  to  the  human  race.  Under  the  circumstances, 
perhaps,  I  shall  be  excused  for  pointing  out  that  the  same  beliefs, 
otherwise  expressed,  are  contained  in  Chapters  XXV.  and  XXVIII. 
of  Social  Statics,  published  in  December,  1850  ;  and  that  they  are 
set  forth  still  more  definitely  in  the  Westminster  Review  for  April, 
1852  (pp.  498 — 500).  As  Mr.  Darwin  himself  points  out,  others  be- 
fore him  have  recognized  the  action  of  that  process  he  has  called 
"  Natural  Selection,"  but  have  failed  to  see  its  full  significance  and 
its  various  effects.  Thus  in  the  Review-article  just  named,  I  have 
contended  that  "  this  inevitable  redundancy  of  numbers — this  con- 
stant increase  of  people  beyond  the  means  of  subsistence,"  necessitates 
the  continual  carrying-off  of  "  those  in  whom  the  power  of  self-pres- 
ervation is  the  least ; "  that  all  being  subject  to  the  "  increasing 
diflBculty  of  getting  a  living  which  excess  of  fertility  entails,"  there 
is  an  average  advance  under  the  pressure,  since  "  only  those  who  do 
advance  under  it  eventually  survive  ;  "  and  that  these  "  must  be  the 
select  of  their  generation."  There  is,  however,  in  the  essay  from 
which  1  here  quote,  no  recognition  of  what  Mr.  Darwin  calls  "  spon- 
taneous variation,"  nor  of  that  divergence  of  type  which  this  natural 
selective  process  is  shown  by  him  to  produce. 

*  And  even  then  there  are  often  ruinous  delays.  A  barrister  tells 
me  that  in  a  ease  in  which  he  was  himself  the  referee,  they  had  but 
six  meetings  in  two  years. 


NOTES  TO   CHAPTER  XV. 

'  "  The  Statistics  of  Legislation,"  read  before  the  Statistical  So- 
ciety, May,  1873,  by  Frederick  H.  Janson,  Esq.,  F.L.S.,  vice-president 
of  the  Incorporated  Law  Society. 
27 


400  THE  STCJDY  OP  SOCIOLOGY. 

2  Among  recent  illustrations  of  the  truth  that  frequent  repetition 
of  Christian  doctrines  does  not  conduce  to  growth  of  Christian  feel- 
ings, here  are  two  that  seem  worth  preserving.  The  first  I  quote 
from  The  Church  Herald  for  JVIay  14,  1873. 

"  Mr.  J.  Stuart  Mill,  who  has  just  gone  to  his  account,  would  have 
been  a  remarkable  writer  of  English,  if  his  innate  self-consciousness 
and  abounding  self-confidence  had  not  made  him  a  notorious  literary 
prig.  *****  His  death  is  no  loss  to  anybody,  for  he  was 
a  rank  but  amiable  infidel,  and  a  most  dangerous  person.  The  sooner 
those  '  lights  of  thought,'  who  agree  with  him,  go  to  the  same  place, 
the  better  it  will  be  for  both  Church  and  State." 

The  second,  which  to  an  English  manifestation  of  sentiment  yields 
a  parallel  from  America,  I  am  permitted  to  publish  by  a  friend  to 
whom  it  was  lately  addressed : — 

"  (From  a  Clergyman  of  28  years'  service.) 

"  U.  S.  America,  March  10th,  1873. 

"  J.  Ttndall, — How  it  ought  to  '  heap  coals  of  fire  on  your  head,' 
that,  in  return  for  your  insults  to  their  Religion,  in  your  various 
works,  the  American  people  treated  you  with  distinguished  considera- 
tion. You  have  repeatedly  raised  your  puny  arm  against  God  and 
His  Christ !  You  have  endeavoured  to  deprive  mankind  of  its  only 
consolation  in  life,  and  its  only  hope  in  dcatli  (vide  '  Fragments  of 
Science,'  &c.),  without  offering  anything  instead,  but  the  'dry-light' 
of  your  molecules  and  atoms.  Shall  we  praise  you  for  this?  We 
praise  you  not ! 

" '  Do  not  I  hate  them,  0  Lord,  that  hate  Thee  ? ' 

"  Every  suicide  in  our  land  (and  they  are  of  daily  occurrence)  is 
indirectly  the  effect  of  the  bestial  doctrines  of  yourself,  Darwin,  Spen- 
cer, Huxley,  et  id  omne  genus. 

'•'The  pit  is  digged  up  for  you  alH' 

" '  Woe  unto  you  that  laugh  now,  for  ye  shall  mourn  and  lament.' 
"With  the  supremest  contempt,  I  remain, 

"A.  F.  F ." 

'  To  show  how  litUc  operative  on  conduct  is  mere  teaching,  lot  me 
add  a  striking  fact  that  has  fallen  under  my  own  observation.  Some 
twelve  years  ago  was  commenced  a  serial  publication,  grave  and  un- 
intorostiiip  to  most,  and  necessarily  limited  in  its  circulation  to  the 
well-cducatfd.  It  was  issued  to  subscribers,  from  each  of  whom  a 
small  sum  was  duo  for  every  four  numbers.  As  was  to  be  expected, 
the  notification,  perindicnlly  made,  that  another  subscription  was  due, 
received  from  some  promjit  attention;  from  others  an  iittontion  more 
or  less  tardy ;  and  from  others  no  attention  at  all.     The  defaulters, 


NOTES.  401 

from  time  to  time  reminded  by  new  notices,  fell,  many  of  tliem,  two 
subscriptions  in  arrear ;  but  after  receiving  from  the  publishers  letters 
intimating  the  fact,  some  of  these  rectified  what  was  simply  a  result 
of  forgetf ulness :  leaving,  however,  a  number  who  still  went  on  receiv- 
ing the  serial  without  paying  for  it.  When  these  were  three  subscrip- 
tions in  arrear,  further  letters  from  the  publishers,  drawing  their 
attention  to  the  facts,  were  sent  to  them,  bringing  from  some  the 
amounts  due,  but  leaving  a  remainder  who  continued  to  disregard  the 
claim.  Eventually  these  received  from  the  publishers  intimations 
that  their  names  would  be  struck  off  for  non-payment ;  and  such  of 
them  as  continued  insensible  were  at  length  omitted  from  the  list. 
After  a  lapse  of  ten  years,  a  digest  was  made  of  the  original  list,  to 
ascertain  the  ratio  between  the  number  of  defaulters  and  the  total 
number ;  and  to  ascertain,  also,  the  ratios  borne  by  their  numbers  to 
the  numbers  of  their  respective  classes.  Those  who  had  thus  finally 
declined  paying  for  what  they  had  year  after  year  received,  constituted 
the  following  percentages : — 

Subscribers  of  unknown  status   .        .        .        .27  per  cent. 
Physicians         .        .        .        .        i        .        .        29         „ 
Clergymen  (mostly  of  the  Established  Church) .    31         „ 

Secularists 32         „ 

Journalists 83         „ 

Admitting  that  the  high  percentage  among  the  journalists  may 
have  been  due  to  the  habit  of  receiving  gratis  copies  of  books,  we  have 
to  note,  first  of  all.  the  surprising  fact  that  nearly  one-third  of  these 
highly  educated  men  were  thus  regardless  of  an  equitable  claim. 
Further,  on  comparing  the  subdivisions,  we  discover  that  the  class 
undistinguished  by  titles  of  any  kind,  and  therefore  including,  as  we 
must  suppose,  those  whose  education,  though  good,  was  not  the  high- 
est, furnished  the  smallest  percentage  of  defaulters ;  so  far  as  the  evi- 
dence goes,  it  associates  increase  of  intellectual  culture  with  decrease 
of  conscientiousness.  And  then  one  more  thing  lo  be  noted  is  the 
absence  of  that  beneficial  effect  expected  from  rejjclition  of  moral  pre- 
cepts :  the  Clergy  and  the  Secularists  are  nearly  on  a  level.  So  that, 
both  in  general  and  in  detail,  this  evidence,  like  the  evidence  given  in 
the  text,  is  wholly  at  variance  with  the  belief  that  addressing  the  in- 
tellect develops  the  higher  sentiments. 

*  Even  after  the  reform  of  the  Poor-Law,  this  punishment  for  good 
behaviour  was  continued.  Illustrations  will  be  found  in  the  before- 
mentioned  Tracts  on  the  Poor-Laws,  by  a  late  uncle  of  mine — illustra- 
tions that  came  under  his  personal  observation  as  clergyman  and  as 
guardian. 

37 


402  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

*  The  comparisons  ordinarily  made  between  the  minds  of  men  and 
women  are  faulty  in  many  ways,  of  which  these  are  the  chief : — 

Instead  of  comparing  either  the  average  of  women  with  the  aver- 
age of  men,  or  the  elite  of  women  with  the  elite  of  men,  the  common 
course  is  to  compare  the  elite  of  women  with  the  average  of  men. 
Much  the  same  erroneous  impression  results  as  would  result  if  the 
relative  statures  of  men  and  women  were  judged  by  putting  very  tall 
women  side  by  side  with  ordinary  men. 

Sundry  manifestations  of  nature  in  men  and  women,  are  greatly 
perverted  by  existing  social  conventions  upheld  by  both.  There  are 
feelings  which,  under  our  predatory  regime,  with  its  adapted  standard 
of  propriety,  it  is  not  considered  manly  to  show ;  but  which,  contrari- 
wise, are  considered  admirable  in  women.  Hence  repressed  manifesta- 
tions in  the  one  case,  and  exaggerated  manifestations  in  the  other ; 
leading  to  mistaken  estimates. 

The  sexual  sentiment  comes  into  play  to  modify  the  behaviour  of 
men  and  women  to  one  another.  Respecting  certain  parts  of  their 
general  characters,  the  only  evidence  which  can  be  trusted  is  that  fur- 
nished by  the  conduct  of  men  to  men,  and  of  women  to  women,  when 
placed  in  relations  which  exclude  the  personal  affections. 

In  comparing  the  intellectual  powers  of  men  and  women,  no  proper 
distinction  is  made  between  receptive  faculty  and  originative  faculty. 
Tlie  two  are  scarcely  commensurable  ;  and  the  receptivity  may,  and 
frequently  does,  exist  in  high  degree  where  there  is  but  a  low  degree 
of  originality,  or  entire  absence  of  it. 

Perhaps,  however,  the  most  serious  error  usually  made  in  drawing 
these  comparisons  is  that  of  overlooking  the  limit  of  normal  mental 
power.  Either  sex  under  special  stimulations  is  capable  of  manifest- 
ing powers  ordinarily  shown  only  by  the  other ;  but  we  are  not  to 
consider  the  deviations  so  caused  as  affording  proper  measures.  Thus, 
to  take  an  extreme  case,  the  mamma?  of  men  will,  under  special  excita- 
tion, yield  milk:  there  are  various  cases  of  gyna?eomasty  on  record, 
and  in  famines  infants  whose  mothers  liavediod  have  been  thus  saved. 
IJiil  tills  aliilily  to  yield  milk,  which,  when  exercised,  must  be  at  the 
cost  of  masculine  strength,  we  do  not  count  among  masculine  attri- 
butes. Similarly,  under  special  discipline,  the  feminine  intellect  will 
yield  products  higher  than  the  intellects  of  most  men  can  yield.  But 
we  arc  not  to  count  this  productivity  ns  truly  fcmiuino  if  it  entails 
decreased  fulfilment  of  the  iiiiitcrna)  functions.  Only  that  mental 
energy  is  normally  feminine  which  can  coexist  with  the  production 
and  nursing  of  the  due  number  of  healthy  children.  Obviously  a 
power  of  mind  which,  if  general  aujong  the  women  of  a  society,  would 


NOTES.  403 

entairdisappearance  of  the  society,  is  a  power  not  to  be  included  in  an 
estimate  of  the  feminine  nature  as  a  social  factor. 

*  Of  course  it  is  to  be  understood  that  in  this,  and  in  the  succeed- 
ing statements,  reference  is  made  to  men  and  women  of  the  same 
society,  in  the  same  age.  If  women  of  a  more-evolved  race  are  com- 
pared with  men  of  a  less-evolved  race,  the  statement  will  not  be  true. 

'  As  the  validity  of  this  group  of  inferences  depends  on  the  occur- 
rence of  that  partial  limitation  of  heredity  of  sex  here  assumed,  it 
may  be  said  that  J  should  furnish  proof  of  its  occurrence.  Were  the 
place  fit,  this  mignt  be  done.  I  might  detail  evidence  that  has  been 
collected  showing  the  much  greater  liability  there  is  for  a  parent  to 
bequeath  malformations  and  diseases  to  children  of  the  same  sex,  than 
to  those  of  the  opposite  sex.  I  might  cite  the  multitudinous  instances 
of  sexual  distinctions,  as  of  plumage  in  birds  and  colouring  in  insects, 
and  especially  those  marvellous  ones  of  dimorphism  and  polymorphism 
among  females  of  certain  species  of  Lepidoptera,  as  necessarily  imply- 
ing (to  those  who  accept  the  Hypothesis  of  Evolution)  the  predominant 
transmission  of  traits  to  descendants  of  the  same  sex.  It  will  suffice, 
however,  to  instance,  as  more  especially  relevant,  the  cases  of  sexual 
distinctions  within  the  human  race  itself,  which  have  arisen  in  some 
varieties  and  not  in  others.  That  in  some  varieties  the  men  are 
bearded  and  in  others  not,  may  be  taken  as  strong  evidence  of  this 
partial  limitation  of  heredity ;  and  perhaps  still  stronger  evidence  is 
yielded  by  that  peculiarity  of  feminine  form  found  in  some  of  the 
negro  races,  and  especially  the  Hottentots,  which  does  not  distinguish 
to  any  such  extent  the  women  of  other  races  from  the  men.  There  is 
also  the  fact,  to  which  Agassiz  draws  attention,  that  among  the  South 
American  Indians  males  and  females  differ  less  than  they  do  among 
the  negroes  and  the  higher  races ;  and  this  reminds  us  that  among 
European  and  Eastern  nations  the  men  and  women  differ,  both  bodily 
and  mentally,  not  quite  in  the  same  ways  and  to  the  same  degrees, 
but  in  somewhat  different  ways  and  degrees — a  fact  which  would  be 
inexplicable  were  there  no  partial  limitation  of  heredity  by  sex. 


NOTES  TO  CHAPTER  XVI. 

'  History  of  Greece,  vol.  i.  p.  498. 

2  Ibid.  vol.  i.  p.  460. 

3  Morning  Post,  May  15,  1872. 

*  In  the  appendix  to  his  republished  address,  IMr.  Gladstone,  in 
illustration  of  the  views  he  condemns,  refers  to  that  part  of  First 


404  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

Principles  which,  treating  of  the  reconciliation  of  Science  and  Relig- 
ion, contends  that  this  consists  iu  a  united  recognition  of  an  Ultimate 
Cause  which  though  ever  present  to  consciousness,  transcends  knowl- 
edge. Commenting  on  this  view,  he  says:— "Still  it  vividly  recalls  to 
mind  an  old  story  of  the  man  who,  wishing  to  be  rid  of  one  who  was 
in  his  house,  said,  '  Sir,  there  are  two  sides  to  my  house,  and  we  will 
divide  them ;  you  shall  take  the  outside.' "  This  seems  to  me  by  no 
means  a  happily-chosen  simile ;  since  it  admits  of  an  interpretation 
exactly  opposite  to  the  one  Mr.  Gladstone  intends.  The  doctrine  he 
combats  is  that  Science,  unable  to  go  beyond  the  outsides  of  things,  is 
for  ever  debarred  from  reaching,  and  even  from  conceiving,  the  Power 
within  them  ;  and  this  being  so,  the  relative  positions  of  Religion  and 
Science  may  be  well  represented  by  inverting  the  application  of  his 
figure. 

^  Since  the  first  edition  of  this  volume  was  issued,  there  has  ap- 
peared, in  the  Contemporary  Review  for  December,  1873,  the  following 
letter,  addressed  by  Mr.  Gladstone  to  the  Editor: — 

"  10,  Downing  Street,  Whitehall, 
Xov.  3,  1873. 

"  My  dear  Sir, — I  observe  in  the  Contemporary  Mevieiv  for  Octo- 
ber, p.  670,  that  ihe  following  words  are  quoted  from  an  address  of 
mine  at  Liverpool  :-•- 

" '  Upon  the  ground  of  what  is  termed  evolution,  God  is  relieved  of 
the  labour  of  creation :  in  the  name  of  unchangeable  laws  he  is  dis- 
charged from  governing  the  world.' 

"The  distinguished  writer  in  the  Review  says  that  by  those  words 
I  have  made  myself  so  conspicuously  the  champion  (or  exponent)  of 
the  anti-scientific  view,  that  the  words  may  be  regarded  as  typical. 

"To  go  as  directly  as  may  be  to  my  point,  I  consider  this  judgment 
upon  my  declaration  to  bo  founded  on  an  assumption  or  belief  that  it 
contains  a  condemnation  of  evolution,  anil  of  the  doctrine  of  unohango- 
nble  laws.  T  submit  that  it  contains  no  such  thing.  Lot  nic  ilhistrato 
by  saying.  What  if  I  wrote  as  follows:— 

"'Upon  the  ground  of  what  is  termed  liberty,  llagrant  crimes  have 
been  committed  :  and  (likewise)  in  the  name  of  law  and  order,  human 
rights  have  been  trodflen  under  foot.' 

"I  should  not  l)y  thus  writing  condoinn  liberty,  or  condemn  law 
and  order;  but  condemn  only  tlie  inforcncos  that  men  draw,  or  say 
they  draw,  from  them.  Up  to  that  point  the  parallel  is  exact :  and  1 
hope  it  will  be  seen  that  Mr.  Spencer  has  inadvertently  put  upon  my 
words  a  mcnninp  they  do  not  bear. 

"  Using  the  parallel  lliiis  far  for  the  sikc  of  clearness,  I  carry  it  no 


NOTES.  405 

farther.  For  while  I  am  ready  to  give  in  my  adhesion  to  liberty,  and 
likewise  to  law  and  order,  on  evolution  and  on  unchangeable  laws  I 
had  rather  bo  excused. 

"  The  words  with  which  I  think  Madame  de  Stael  ends  Corinne, 
are  the  best  for  me : — Je  ne  veux  ni  la  bldmer,  ni  Vabsoudre,  Before 
I  could  presume  to  give  an  opinion  on  evolution,  or  on  unchangeable 
laws,  I  should  wish  to  know  more  clearly  and  more  fully  than  I  yet 
know,  the  meaning  attached  to  those  phrases  by  the  chief  apostles  of 
the  doctrines ;  and  very  likely  even  after  accomplishing  this  prelimi- 
nary stage,  I  might  find  myself  insufficiently  supplied  with  the  knowl- 
edge required  to  draw  the  line  between  true  and  false. 

"  I  have  then  no  repugnance  to  any  conclusions  whatever,  legiti- 
mately arising  upon  well-ascertained  facts  or  well-tested  reasonings : 
and  my  complaint  is  that  the  functions  of  the  Almighty  as  Creator 
and  Governor  of  the  world  are  denied  upon  grounds,  which,  whatever 
be  the  extension  given  to  the  phrases  I  have  quoted,  appear  to  me  to 
be  utterly  and  manifestly  insufficient  to  warrant  such  denial. 

"  I  am  desirous  to  liberate  myself  from  a  supposition  alien,  I  think, 
to  my  whole  habits  of  mind  and  life.  But  I  do  not  desire  to  effect 
this  by  the  method  of  controversy ;  and  if  Mr.  Spencer  does  not  see, 
or  does  not  think,  that  he  has  mistaken  the  meaning  of  my  words,  I 
have  no  more  darts  to  throw ;  and  will  do  myself,  indeed,  the  pleasure 
of  concluding  with  a  frank  avowal  that  his  manner  of  handling  what 
he  must  naturally  consider  to  be  a  gross  piece  of  folly  is  as  far  as  pos- 
sible from  being  offensive. 

"  Believe  me, 

"  Most  faithfully  yours, 

"  W.  E.  Gladstone." 

Mr.  Gladstone's  explanation  of  his  own  meaning  must,  of  course, 
be  accepted :  and,  inserting  a  special  reference  to  it  in  the  stereotype- 
plate,  I  here  append  his  letter,  that  the  reader  may  not  be  misled  by 
my  comments.  Paying  due  respect  to  Mr.  Gladstone's  wish  to  avoid 
controversy,  I  will  say  no  more  here  than  seems  needful  to  excuse  my- 
self for  having  misconstrued  his  words.  "  Evolution,"  as  I  understand 
it,  and  "creation,"  as  usually  understood,  are  mutually  exclusive:  if 
there  has  been  that  special  formation  and  adjustment  commonly  meant 
by  creation,  there  has  not  been  evolution  ;  if  there  has  been  evolution, 
there  has  not  been  special  creation.  Similarly,  unchangeable  laws,  as 
conceived  by  a  man  of  science,  negative  the  current  conception  of 
divine  government,  which  implies  interferences  or  special  providences : 
if  the  laws  are  unchangeable,  they  arc  never  traversed  by  divine  voli- 
tions suspending  them ;   if  God  alters  the  predetermined  course  of 


406  THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 

things  from  time  to  time,  the  laws  are  not  unchangeable.  I  assumed 
that  Mr.  Gladstone  used  the  terms  in  these  mutually-exclusive  senses; 
but  my  assumption  appears  to  have  been  a  wrong  one.  This  is  mani- 
fest to  me  on  reading  what  he  instances  as  parallel  antitheses ;  seeing 
that  the  terms  of  his  parallel  antitheses  are  not  mutually  exclusive. 
That  which  excludes  "  liberty,"  and  is  excluded  by  it,  is  despotism ; 
and  that  which  excludes  "  law  and  order,"  and  is  excluded  by  them, 
is  anarchy.  Were  these  mutually-exclusive  conceptions  used.  Mr. 
Gladstone's  parallel  would  be  transformed  thus : — 

"  Upon  the  ground  of  what  is  termed  liberty,  there  has  been  rebel- 
lion against  despotism  :  and  (likewise)  in  the  name  of  law  and  order, 
anarchy  has  been  striven  against." 

As  this  is  the  parallel  Mr.  Gladstone  would  have  drawn  had  the 
words  of  his  statement  been  used  in  the  senses  I  supposed,  it  is  clear 
that  I  misconceived  the  meanings  he  gave  to  them ;  and  I  must,  there- 
fore, ask  the  reader  to  be  on  his  guard  against  a  kindred  misconcep- 
tion. 

[In  the  earlier-sold  copies  of  the  second  edition  of  this  volume,  there 
here  followed  a  paragraph,  one  part  of  which  was  based  upon  an  ab- 
surd misconstruction  of  the  second  sentence  contained  in  the  first  of 
the  two  passages  quoted  from  Mr.  Gladstone — a  misconstruction  so 
absurd,  that,  when  my  attention  was  drawn  to  it,  I  could  scarcely  be- 
lieve I  had  made  it,  until  reference  to  the  passage  itself  proved  to  me 
that  I  had.  I  am  greatly  annoyed  that  careless  reading  should  have 
betrayed  me  into  such  a  mistake ;  and  I  apologize  for  having  given 
some  currency  to  the  resulting  misrepresentation. 

In  a  letter  referring  to  this  misrepresentation,  Mr.  Gladstone  ex- 
presses his  regret  tluit  his  letter  to  the  Contemporary  lievieic  did  not 
explicitly  embrace  both  the  passages  I  quoted  from  him  ;  and  he  adds 
that  in  his  opinion,  there  is  "  no  conflict  between  the  doctrine  of  Pi'ovi- 
dence  and  the  doctrine  of  uniform  laws."  My  description  of  his  view 
as  anti-scientific,  llie  reader  must  therefore  take  with  the  qualifica- 
tion that  Mr.  Gladstone  does  not  regard  it  as  involving  the  alleged 
antagonism.] 


INDEX. 


Abstract  science,  discipline  given  by, 
288-91,  29ti,  297 ;  investigation  of 
physical  action,  the  province  of, 
291. 

Action,  relation  to  feeling,  327 ;  not 
produced  by  cognition,  328-3:M. 

Acts,  building,  3  ;  contagious  disease, 
149  ;  parliamentary,  2(33  ;  hcensing, 
247  ;  public,  325,  32G. 

Adaptation  of  organisms  to  environ- 
ment, 316,  317,  319,  301  ;  to  social 
conditions,  319,  3 CI;  need  for,  340. 

Admiralty  mismanagement,  146-147, 
153. 

Allotropic  form,  of  oxygen,  205  ;  of 
carbon,  205. 

Alton  Locke,  extract  from,  38. 

Altruism,  165-168,  173,  182  ;  individual, 
315,  316. 

Amity,  religion  of,  163-169  ;  truths  ig- 
nored by  adherents  to  the  religion 
of,  174-178. 

Analogy,  between  individual  and  social 
organisms,  301-305. 

Analysis,  chief  function  of,  293. 

Anomalies,  manifested  by  human  na- 
ture, 11-14. 

Antagonistic  creeds,  181  ;  social  states, 
223,  224. 

Anti-patriotism,  196  ;  bias  of,  197  ;  ex- 
ample of,  197  ;  effect  on  sociologi- 
cal speculation,  210. 

Anti-theological  bias,  distortions  of 
judgment  caused  by,  274  ;  errors 
from,  281,  384. 

Antithesis,  series  of,  10,  11. 

Anti-Tobacco  Society,  report  from,  72. 

Appliances  for  discipline,  242  ;  undue 
belief  in,  245. 

Art-museums,  320. 

Aryan  races,  308. 

Astronomy,  progress  in,  205  ;  sidereal, 
205  ;  idea  of  continuity  from,  293  ; 
theories  in,  350  ;  charge  against, 
359. 

Athanasian  Creed,  271. 

Athenian  democracy,  240. 

Atomicity,  conception  of,  204. 

Atomic  theory,  204. 


Automorphic  interpretation,  103,  104  ; 

illustrations  of,  105,  106 ;  necessity 

for  guarding  against,  132. 
Average    intelligence,  inadequate   for 

guidance,  276,  277. 


Barbarities,  committed  by  Europeans, 

192. 

Bias,  educational,  161-184 ;  patriotic, 
18.5-218  ;  class,  219-238  ;  political, 
239-265  ;  theological,  26(V-285  ;  of 
enmity,  180  ;  of  the  wealthy.  230. 

Biological  truth,  a  check  to  rash  politi- 
cal action,  307  ;  underlying  legisla- 
tion, 316  ;  laws,  318  ;  u.se  of,  322. 

Biology,  preparation  in,  298  ;  position 
assigned  by  M.  Cointe,  299  ;  cardi- 
nal truth  of,  300  ;  contributions  to, 
207. 

Buddhism,  193. 

Building  acts,  3. 

Bureaucratic  system.  111. 


Calico,  demand  for,  16 ;  consumption 

of,  16. 
Causation,  physical,  4  ;  crude  notions 

regarding,    290  ;    fructifying,    295, 

296  ;  continuous,  351. 
Chancres,  destructive  and  constructive, 

296. 
Character,  genesis  of,  342. 
Charles  I.,  159. 

Chemistry,  progress  in.  204,  205. 
CircMlatiiig  libraries,  effect  of,  61. 
(Mvilization,  course  of,  317. 
Class-bias.   219,   220  ;     illustrations    of, 

221-223;    truth    obscured     by,   229, 

230,  233.  234  ;  in  China,  236. 
Cognition,  327.  328. 
Comiiiemorative  structures,  127,  128. 
(Joninierce  of  literature,  00,  61. 
Conuiions,  enclosure  of,  36  ;  House  of, 

245,  2.52,  254,  263. 
Comnuuie,  reign  of,  1,39. 
Comparative  psychologv  of  the  sexes, 
340-346. 


407 


408 


THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 


Compromise,  between  old  and  new  be- 
liefs, 359-361. 

Conceptions,  complex,  112;  sociologi- 
cal, 115,  119. 

Conceptive  faculty,  want  of,  120  ;  plas- 
ticity of,  120,  121,  126. 

Conclusions,  general,  360,  307. 

Concrete  sciences,  discipline  given  by, 
293,  294,  290. 

Conformists,  warped  judgment  of, 
273. 

Confucius,  maxims  of,  333. 

Conservatism,  304. 

Consolidation,  the  result  of  war,  176, 
177  ;  of  Uermany,  177. 

Constitutions,  belief  in,  248  ;  useful  only 
when  products  of  national  charac- 
ter, 250-255. 

Continuity,  conceptions  of,  293.  294. 

Cooperative  industry,  227-229,  231. 

Corollary,  from  the  doctrine  of  evolu- 
tion. 305. 

Cotton,  its  i)rice,  16,  17. 

Courage,  170, 182  ;  over-estimate  of,  171, 
172. 

Credulity,  its  coexistence  with  untruth- 
fulness, 107. 

Creeds,  208,  209  ;  Athanasian,  271  ;  re- 
actions against  the,  274  ;  antago- 
nistic, 181. 

Crime  not  the  result  of  ignorance,  330, 
331. 

Cromwell,  159. 

T> 

Davy,  experiments  of,  204.  205. 

Democracy,  a  despotism,  250. 

Despotism,  lesson  of,  from  France.  2.50. 

Difficulties  of  the  social  science,  0.5-07  ; 
objective,  08-102,  352 ;  subjective, 
101.  133-160,  ,353. 

Discipline,  mental,  286  ;  effect  on  habits 
of  thought,  288  ;  acquired  by  study 
of  abstract  science,  288  ;  aeciuired 
by  study  of  physical  scieiin-,  290, 
291  :  sole  study  of  pliysical  science 
iuailei|unte  as  a,  291,  293,  355. 

Dis.sentiiig  orgnui/ations,  215. 

Diviiii'  government,  outgrowths  from 
theory  of,  124. 

strategist,  25. 

Doctrini'  of  averages,  41. 

DoiMcslic  relations,  121,  122. 

Drainage,  (id,  73. 

Dutch,  not  imaginative,  200. 


E 

Knster-eggs,  112. 
Education,  national,  !ilO. 
KducallonnI  inslitnlions,  01.  70,  71. 
Kgoisni,   ItLVHlH,    17.3,    1H2,  IKO  ;   reflex, 

190  :  genenil,  30.'). 
Embodieci  iMiwer,  emotion  excited  by, 

l.V.I    ]VA). 
Kniotion,  effect  on  judgment.  KJ.'I  ;  ilhiH- 

tratlons,    13-1   ]'M;    excited    by   em 

bodied  power.  1.')!   I,'i7. 
Employed,  cunce])tjunu  of  tlio,  224-231. 


Employers,  bias  of,  231  ;  mental  atti- 
tude of,  231. 

English,  early  history  of  the,  127-131  ; 
self-depreciation  by,  197  ;  ideas  of 
the,  200  ;  enterprises  of  the,  200  ; 
inventions  of  the,  201  ;  imagination 
of,  209;  science,  214  ;  improvidence, 
335. 

Enmity,  emotions  enlisted  by,  163,  168- 
173  ;  religion  of,  180. 

Equilibrium,  between  fertility  and  mor- 
tality, 309  ;  between  conflicting 
sympathies  and  antipathies,  285. 

Ether,  units  of,  283. 

Ethics,  208  ;  utilitarian  system  of,  279. 

Evidence,  untrustworthiness  of  his- 
torical. 68,  69  ;  distorted,  72,  74,  70  ; 
perverted  through  confountling  ob- 
servation with  inference,  84-90. 

Evils,  suppression  of,  19 ;  redistribu- 
tion of,  21. 

Evolution,  process  of,  282 ;  individual, 
341,  342  ;  products  of  human,  342  ; 
arrest  of,  346  ;  study  of,  350  ;  charge 
against,  358  ;  societies  products  of, 
304  ;  effect  of,  305. 

Examinations,  results  obtained  from, 
87-89. 


Factors,  cooperative,  183. 

Faculty,  complexity  of.  112  ;  illustra- 
tions of,  114,  115  ;  absence  of,  120. 

Fallacies,  popular,  1-4. 

Fertilitj-,  balance  by  mortality,  309. 

Fetichism.  282. 

Feudal  system,  101,  2.33. 

Figures  of  speech.  301. 

Fijians,  230,  267.  268. 

Force,  correlation  and  equivalence  of, 
204. 

FroTide's  opinions  regarding  social  sci- 
ence, ;«-ll. 

French,  undue  self-estimation  by,  193; 
snhliers,  19t  ;  poets,  194  ;  adminis- 
tration, 199;  Academy.  210-211; 
liingnage, 210,  211  :  Revolution,  13'.>- 
141,  143  ;  lesson  from  the,  2.50. 

Functions,  preparation  for,  .323;  nd- 
justment  of  special  powers  to,  341. 


O 

Oanibling,  gronnils  of  reprobation,  278. 

(Jeiierosity  in  women,  310. 

Genesis  of  elinraiter,  ;il2. 

of  fuels,  351. 

of  the  great  mnn.  .30-32. 

of  the  belief  in  universal  history, 

20-27. 

neology,  progress  in,  200  ;  idea  of  con- 
fiiniily  fri>iii,  29.1. 

Oertiiany,  self  snOleieni-y  of,  105  ;  na- 
tional cost  Mine  of,  l!l(l. 

(iin.  (iniiiitil V  ilistilled  in  l'",ngland,  247. 

(;1miIsImii,.-h  theory,  3.5H. 

(iovertnnenl,  its  duty.  4,  fi  ;  oflleers  of, 
1.'.3:  regulative  ugcucy  of,  320. 

Great  artificer,  26. 


INDEX. 


409 


Great-man  theory  of   history,  28,  29, 

351  ;  error  oouceruing,  32. 
Greeks,  344,  357,  358. 

H 

Hamlet,  quotation  from,  246. 

Hate,  effect  ou  judgment,  138-144. 

Heat,  as  a  mode  of  motion,  204. 

Heredity,  307,  308,  313. 

Historical  evidence,  untrustworthiness 

of,  08,  09. 
Historical  sequence  denied  by  Canon 

Kingsley,  38. 
History  of  Kngland,  36  ;  science  of,  36  ; 

limits  of  exact  science  as  applied 

to,  37;  scientiflc  method  as  applied 

to,  240. 
Hopes,  visionary,  30G,  367. 
Human  nature,  indefinitely  modifiable, 

108  ;  slow  changes  in,  109,  110. 
Hyde  Parli,  221;  riots  in,  270. 
Hypothesis  of  atoms  and    molecules, 

283. 


leonoelasm,  example  of,  275. 

Ideas,  relative  faith  in,  199,  200. 

Ignorance  not  the  cause  of  crime,  3.30. 

Illusions,  optical,  83,  84. 

Impatience,  effect  of  this  emotion,  136, 
353. 

Improvidence  of  the  English,  335-338. 

Infanticide,  198. 

Institutions,  self-preservation  of,  17. 

Insurance  companies,  74. 

Intellectual  culture,  moralizing  effects 
of,  331 ;  appliances  to,  332. 

Intelligence,  average,  276,  277 ;  culti- 
vated, 280. 

Intuition,  guidance  by,  325  ;  power  of, 
343. 

Invariants,  theory  of,  203. 

Ipecacuanha,  148. 


Japanese,  345. 

Jews.  128. 

Judgments,  326;  affected  by  coexisting 

emotion,  134,  1.54,  353,  3.54  ;  effect  of 

love  and  hate  on,  138-144. 
Juggernaut,  345. 
Justice,  abstract,  346. 

K 

Kingsley's  views  regarding  social  sci- 
ence. 37—40. 

Knowledge,  second-hand,  332 ;  effects 
on  moral  culture,  332,  333. 


Laissez-faire  policy,  320,  321. 
Land  tenure,  system  regulating.  112. 
Language,  use  of  old  forms  of,  97. 
Law.  149-151  :  reverence  for,  157. 
Legislation,  rational,  327. 


Licensing  act,  347. 
Locomotion,  appliances  for,  59. 
Logic,  202  ;  discipline  given  by,  288. 
Loyalty,  157,  158. 

M 

Married  life,  healthfulness  of,  84  ;  cir- 
cumstances which  determine,  85-«7. 

Blaster-builder,  25. 

Mathematics,  202  ;  discipline  given  by, 
288. 

Matthew  Arnold's  method,  197-200 ; 
statements  of,  199-210. 

Mechanics,  48. 

Mental  science,  truth  taught  by,  3.35. 

Mercantile  marine,  inspection  of,  3. 

Metamorphoses,  361,  362. 

Meteorology,  35. 

Mind,  laws  of,  324,  326  ;  true  theory 
of,  326. 

Modiflability  of  species,  299  ;  of  man, 
300,  306-308  ;  of  aU  organic  beings, 
308. 

Monogamy,  121,  122. 

Moral  code,  operativeness  of,  279,  280. 

nature,  effects  of  war  on,  179. 

teaching,  effect  of,  332-335. 

Mordaunt  cases,  254. 

Mortality,  309  ;  of  children,  199  ;  statis 
tics  of,  199  ;  rate  of,  311,  312  ;  de 
crease  in  the  causes  of,  312. 

Murders,  committed  in  England,  198 
by  foreigners,  198,  199. 

"Must-do-something"  impulse,  18,  19 
result  of  deficient  knowledge,  19. 

Mutual  dependence,  of  parts,  303,  304 
of  sociology  and  biology,  305. 


N 

Napoleon,  his  despotism,  142,  143. 
Nature  of  the  aggregate  determined 

by  the  nature  of  the  units,  4:^-48  ; 

objection  to  this  theory,  18. 
Naval  and  Military  Bil)Ie  .Society,  1-^1. 
Nonconformists,  judgment  warped  by 

theological  bias,  273. 
Nonconformity,  216. 
Non-restraint  system,  12. 

O 

Observations,  systematic,  326. 

Old  beliefs,  reaction  from,  275,  276. 

Old-English  periods,  119. 

Optical  illu.sions,  83. 

Organization,  regulative,  363  :   nuitual 

depcmtlence  of  parts  necessarj-  to, 

301,  302. 


Parable  of  the  sower,  application  of, 

290. 
Parenthood,  mental  influence  of,  338. 
Parliament,  acts  of,  2C3  ;  member  of, 

:i24. 
Patriotism,  ia5,  186  :  effects  on  beliefs, 

lt)7,  188  ;  leads  to  a  low  estimate  of 


410 


THE  STUDY  OF  SOCIOLOGY. 


other  peoples,  188.  189,  193  ;  effects 
on  sociolog-ieal  judgiueuts,  190,  354. 

Personal  equatiou,  9. 

interests.  75. 

I'henoniena.  35?  ;  interpretation  of,  358. 

Philanthropj-,  a  means  of  evil,  314. 

Policj-.  319,  3i0  ;  conducive  to  improve- 
ment, ;K8. 

Political  bias,  239  ;  perverting  effects 
of,  240  :  subtle  form  of.  255  ;  op- 
posed to  sociological  conceptions, 
204.  354. 

economy,  136j  137  ;  flaws  in,  138  ; 

laws  of,  138. 

instrumentalities,  252-255. 

Polyandry,  121. 

Poor-laws,  examples  of,  93,  94. 

Positive  philosophy,  faith  pervading, 
299. 

Positivism,  195. 

Power,  manifestation  of,  344 ;  rever- 
ence for,  347  ;  its  influence  on  po- 
litical beliefs,  144. 

Preglacial  period,  120. 

Press,  112. 

Prevision.  34  ;  scientific,  34  ;  of  social 
phenomena,  41  :  impossible,  50 ; 
possible  51,  52,  351. 

Prodromus  Flwx  Xovcv-HoUandhe,  207. 

Pi'Ogress  in  chemistry,  204,  205  ;  in 
mathematics,  20-' ;  in  physics,  203  : 
in  astronomy,  205  ;  in  geology,  200  ; 
in  biology,  207  ;  in  psychology,  208; 
in  ethics,  20s. 

Properties  of  aggregates  determined 
by  properties  of  its  units,  53,  111. 

Protestantism,  272. 

Proximate  causes,  2. 

results,  2,  310. 

Psychological  inquiries,  need  for,  340  ; 
analysis,  34;?. 

Psychology,  208  ;  preparation  in,  324. 

Public  affairs,  better  management  of. 
255 ;  conversation  concerning,  250- 
202. 

Q 

Quaternions,  202  ;  value  of,  6. 

R 

Radicalism,  304. 

Rfign  of  Terror.  140.  144. 

Religion,  of  amity,  270,  271  :  of  enmitj', 

2^(1.  271  ;  of  huiiianity,  2H3. 
lU-^ligioiis,   101  ;    antagonistic,   102-104  ; 

conflict  between,  105. 
Religious  conceptions.  12;i-126. 
Kentiment,    development    of,    282, 

283. 
Representnfivr>  faculty.  310. 
RfHults  prci|Hirti(>nal toapi>liance8,241  ; 

fallacy  that.  212  2.'-.5. 
K.-vulnti.iti.  Krcncli.  139  141.  143. 
Itliotic  llydriiulic  Company,  200. 
Rihot,  extract  from,  20H. 
Roman  Catholicism,  272. 


RacrincoH.  hnmnn,  90. 
ttomouiis,  20*;,  20M. 


Sandwich-Islanders,  friendly  conduct 
of,  191. 

Sanitary  arrangements,  3. 

Savages,  as  described  by  various  writ- 
ers, 200 ;  morality  of,  207  ;  bar- 
barity of,  191  ;  kind  treatment  by, 
191. 

Science  of  life,  related  to  the  science 
of  society.  299  ;  importance  of  study 
of,  290,  297. 

Sciences,  abstract,  202  ;  abstract-con- 
crete. 203. 

Scurvy,  147. 

Self-control.  .338. 

depreciation,  origin  of,  197. 

regard,  evils  resulting  from,  186, 

193. 

sacrifice.  162  ;  untenability  of  the 

doctrine  of.  105. 

Sexes,  mental  difterences,  340-346. 

Shakspeare,  31. 

Slave-trade,  321. 

Small-pox  epidemic,  134. 

Social  actions,  complexity  of,  16,  17. 

phenomena,  relations  of,  4  ;  should 

be  studied  in  couf  ormit  j'  with  meth- 
ods employed  in  physical  research, 
5  ;  false  method  of  investigating, 
10  ;  preyision  in,  18  ;  ascertainable 
order  of,  21  ;  no  absolute  repetition 
of,  35  ;  explanations  of,  48  ;  two 
modes  of  interpreting,  87 ;  jier- 
verted  conceptions  of.  181  ;  origin 
in  tlic  phenomena  of  individual 
human  nature.  299  ;  factors  in- 
volved in,  340,  347  ;  imperviousness 
to,  300. 

- —  science,  ideas  alien  to.  26-33  ;  de- 
nial of.  33  ;  positions  taken  by  Mr. 
Froude  regarding,  33  ;  free-will  in- 
compatible with,  33  ;  denial  of  a, 
37  ;  recognition  of,  39 ;  reply  to 
criticisms  concerning,  39,  40  ;  na- 
ture of,  52,  53  ;  definite  conception 
of,  5;i ;  value  of  the  study  of.  03, 
64  ;  difficulties  of  the,  05-07,  3,52  ; 
right  thinking  in,  181  ;  political 
partizansliip  in  the  way  of,  239  ; 
lialanccd  judgments  in,  285  ;  men- 
tal science  necessary  to,  349  ;  con- 
clusion regarding,  350  ;  conception 
developed  by,  304. 

Social  structures,  development  of,  54- 
50. 

Society,  midtiplicity  of  factors  in- 
volved, 11.  15;  structure  and 
gi-owth  as  related  in.  Mi  (;2 ;  its 
physical  i|uiilily  lowered,  311-313; 
it« "intellectual  and  moral  (lualilies 
lowered,  313-310 ;  type  modified, 
317. 

Sociology,  necessity  for  the  study  of, 
1-21  :  hindered  by  Bentiments  of 
loyalty,  Vu  ;  clas,s-bias  opposed  to 
right  thinking  in,  2.37  ;  poliliciil  bias 
opposed  to,  201  ;  a  lit  habit  of 
Ihouglit  important  to  llie  study  of, 
2SS  ;  its  deiielidetice  on  biology, 
'JitO,  2it9  ;  dini<Mdlies  of.  3.V2. 
Solar  Bi)ol8,  constitution  of  sun  implied 


IXDEX. 


411 


by,  fi-8 ;  Wilson's  hypothesis  re- 
Kardiiif?.  G  ;  counter-hypothesis,  7  ; 
Kirehhoff 's  liypothesis,  7  ;  hypothe- 
sis, reconciliiif;:  facts,  8. 

Spartans,  17:^,  179. 

State  agency,  147-157 ;  confidence  in, 
154  ;  ediKvitioii  through,  329. 

Statutes,  penal,  149. 

Stone  age,  175. 

Strategy  of  Providence,  25. 

Structure  and  growth,  5G-59  ;  law  in 
social  organisms  of,  59,  GO. 

Subjective  difficulties,  intellectual.  103- 
132,  3r,2  ;  emotional,  183-lGO,  .3.53. 

Sun's  distance,  error  in  estimating,  1.37. 

Supernatural  genesis  of  phenomena, 
22-24 

Superstitions,  5. 

Survivals,  of  the  fittest,  174,  175  ;  of 
primitive  practices,  97-101. 

Synthesis,  practice  of,  293. 

Syphilis,  76-82. 


Tailor  in  heaven,  story  of,  135. 

Tasmanian  devil,  108,  170. 

Temperance  societies,  growth  of,  70  ; 
results  of,  24G. 

Tendency,  destructive  and  construc- 
tive, 363. 

Testimony,  necessity  for  discounting, 
71  :  personal  interests  affecting,  74; 
political  influences  affecting,  75. 

Theological  bias,  leading  to  misinter- 
pretation of  social  facts,  266  ;  effect 
of,  270  ;  obscures  sociological  truth, 
271  ;  leads  to  erroneous  estimates 
of  societies  and  institutions,  271, 
3.55. 

Theory  of  Mr.  Gladstone,  358. 


Theory  of  light,  203. 

Titles,  159. 

Trade-unions,  genesis  of,  119  ;  ideas  of 
legislative  action  entertained  by, 
157  ;  Internal  governments  of,  224, 
225  ;  general  policy  of.  229. 

Transitional  periods,  362. 

Trinity,  12.5,  271. 

Truth,  taught  by  mental  science,  335. 

Two-headed  nightingale,  68. 

U 

United  States,  truth  displayed  in,  2.51. 

Untrustworthy  evidence,  the  result  of, 
subjective  states  of  the  witnes.ses, 
69-74,  352  ;  of  personal  interest,  74- 
82  :  of  confounding  observation 
with  inference,  84-90  :  distribution 
in  space,  00.  91  ;  distribution  of 
facts  in  time,  92-101. 


Vagrancy  act,  36. 
Veracity,  habitual.  107. 

W 

Wallace,  contradictory  estimates  of  the 
character  of,  188. 

Walter-press,  genesis  of,  115-119. 

War,  the  means  of  consolidation,  176  ; 
of  industrial  habits,  177  ;  of  retro- 
gression, 178  ;  its  effects  on  the 
moral  nature,  179  ;  general  effects 
of,  180. 

Women,  mental  characteristics  of,  340  ; 
physical  peculiarities  of,  341  ;  traits 
of  intellect  and  feeling  peculiar  to, 
346-348. 


THE  END. 


D.  APPLETON   AND  COMPANY'S  PUBLICATIONS. 


E 


NEW   EDITION   OF    SPENCER'S   ESSAYS. 

SSAYS:  Scietitific,  Political.,  and  Speculative.  By 
Herbert  Spencer.  A  new  edition,  uniform  with  Mr.  Spencer':* 
other  works,  including  Seven  New  Essays.  Three  volumes^ 
l2mo,  1,460  pages,  with  full  Subject-Index  of  twenty-four  pages. 
Cloth.  $6.00. 

OF  VOLUME   I. 

The  Social  Organism. 

The  Origin  of  Animal  Worship. 

Morals  and  Moral  Sentiments 

The  Comparative  Psychology  of  Man. 

Mr.  Martineau  on  Evolution. 

The  Factors  of  Organic  Evolution.* 


CONTENTS 
The  Development  Hypothesis. 
Progress :  its  Law  and  Cause. 
Transcendental  Physiology. 
The  Nebular  Hypothesis, 
Illogical  Geology. 
Bain  on  the  Emotions  and  the  WilL 


CONTENTS   OF 

The  Genesis  of  Science 

The  Classification  of  the  Sciences. 

Reasons  for  dissenting  from  the  Phi- 
losophy of  M.  Comte. 

On  Laws  in  General,  and  the  Order 
of  their  Discovery. 

The  Valuation  of  Evidence. 

What  is  Electricity  ? 

Mill  versus  Hamilton — The  Test  of 

Truth. 

CONTENTS   OF 

Manners  and  Fashion. 
Railway   Morals  and    Railway 

Policy. 
The  Morals  of  Trade. 
Prison-Ethics. 
The  Ethics  of  Kant. 
Absolute  Political  Ethics. 
Over-  Legislation . 
Representative   Government — 

What  is  it  good  for  ? 


*  Also  published  separately, 
t  Also  published  separately. 
X  Also  published  separately. 


VOLUME   II. 

Replies  to  Criticisms. 

Prof.  Green's  Explanations. 

The  Philosophy  of  Style,  t 

Use  and  Beauty. 

The  Sources  of  Architectural  Types 

Gracefulness. 

Personal  Beauty. 

The  Origin  and  Function  of  Music. 

The  Physiology  of  Laughter. 

VOLUME   III. 

State-Tampering   with   Money  and 

Banks 
Parliamentary  Reform :  the  Dangers 

and  the  Safeguards. 
"  The  Collective  Wisdom." 
Political  Fetichism. 
Specialized  Administration. 
From  Freedom  to  Bondagfj. 
The  Americans.! 
Index. 

i2mo.  Cloth,  75  cents. 
i2mo.  Cloth,  50  cents. 
i2mo.     Paper,  10  cents. 


D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY,  NEW  YORK. 


D.  APPLETON  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 


^nHE  SYNTHETIC  PHILOSOPHY  OF  HER^ 

J-        BERT  SPENCER.      In  ten  volumes.     i2mo.     Cloth,  $2.00 
per  volume.     The  titles  of  the  several  volumes  are  as  follows  , 

(i.)  FIRST  PRINCIPLES. 

I.  The  Unknowable.  H.  Laws  of  the  Knowable. 

(2.)  THE  PRINCIPLES   OF  BIOLOGY.     Vol.  I.  .  ,  „.  , 

I.  The  Data  of  Biology.  IL  The  Inductions  of  Biologj'. 

III.  The  Evolution  of  Life. 

/3.)  THE  PRINCIPLES   OF  BIOLOGY.       Vol.  II. 

IV.  Morphological  Development.  V.  Physiological  Development. 

VI.  Laws  of  MultipUcation. 

(4.)  THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PSYCHOLOGY.     Vol.  I. 

I.  The  Data  of  Psychology.  HI-  Geneml  Synthesis. 

II.  The  Inductions  of  Psychology.  IV.  Special  Synthesis. 

V.  Physical  Synthesis. 

(5.)  THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PSYCHOLOGY.     Vol.  II. 

VI.  Special  Analysis.  VIII.  Congruities. 

VI 1.  General  .Analysis.  IX.  CoroUanes. 

(6.)  THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  SOCIOLOGY.    Vol.1.  .         ,„     ., 

I.  The  Data  of  Sociology.  II.  The  Inductions  of  Sociology. 

III.  The  Domestic  Relations. 
(7.)  THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  SOCIOLOGY.     Vol.  II. 

IV.  Ceremonial  Institutions.  V.  Political  Institutions. 

(8.)  THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  SOCIOLOGY.     Vol.  III. 

VI.  Ecclesiastical  Institutions.  _  VII.   Professional  Institutions. 

VIII.  Industrial  Institutions. 

(9.)  THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  ETHICS.     Vol.  I. 

I.  The  Data  of  Ethics.  II.  The  Inductions  of  Ethics. 

111.  The  Ethics  of  Individual  Life. 

(10.)  THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  ETHICS.     Vol.  II. 

IV.  The  Ethics  of  Social  Life:    Justice. 

V.  The  Ethics  of  Social  Life :    Ncg.itive  Beneficence. 

VI.  The  Ethics  of  Social  Life:    Positive  Beneficence. 

r\ESCRIPTIVE    SOCIOLOGY.      A    Cyclopedia    of 

J-^   Social  Facts.     Representing  the  Constitution    of   Every  Type 

and  Grade  of  Human  Society,  Past  and  Present,  Stationary  and 

Progressive.    By  Herbert  Spencer.    Eight  Nos.,  Royal  Folio. 

No.         I.  ENGLISH f 4  ^-o 

No.       II.  .MEXICANS,  CENTRAL  AMERICANS.  CHIP.CHAS.  and  PE- 
RUVIANS        4  00 

No.     III.  LOWEST  RACES.  NEGRITO  RACES,  .nnd  MAI.AYO-POLY- 

NKSIAN    RACES 4  «> 

No.      IV.  AFRICAN    RACES 4  00 

No.        V.  ASIATIC   RACES 4  00 

No.      VI.  A.MEKICAN   RACES 4  00 

No.    VII.  HEBREWS  and   PHOiNICIANS 4  «> 

No.  VIII.  FRENCH  (Double  Number) 7  «» 


I).   ArPLKTON    AND   COMPANY.   NEW  YORK. 


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